The Vampire Detective 2 : Second Grace
by LeonaWriter
Summary: Following not long on from the events in 'The Vampire Detective', a murder takes place. But when the crime is pinned on one Kudo Shinichi who isn't in a fit state to defend his name, drastic measures will have to be taken...
1. All the Nightmares Came Today

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Prologue – A Nightmare in Reality

Disclaimer – Story is mine. Characters (most of) are Gosho's.

Warning! Strong themes of vampiric nature from the very beginning. I don't see why you would turn away now, since you should have read the first story first, and also because this is only featuring in small parts, but you have been Warned.

---

_The corridor was dark, in a human way. In a vampire way, it was lit more than enough by the overhead lighting, which flickered on and off, buzzing in his preternatural hearing like bees and wasps. Everything was more enhanced than usual. His body, if not his mind, was on the hunt._

_He was arguing with the Kid. The human Kid, who smelt of silk and smoke and blood and magic. It was intoxicating. He found his fangs sharpening at any given moment in their conversation, if it could be called that. Blood pounded in his ears and he could feel the Kid's blood doing the same in his system._

_But he wouldn't. Not, apparently, because of anything other than the fact that the idiot trusted him. Felt that he didn't trust himself enough. That he would be able to bring himself out. He wasn't so sure._

_When he finally did give in to his cravings and his need, he did so quickly, so that he wouldn't chicken out at the last moment. Fangs sunk lightly into skin and he drank of the liquid that kept him alive. He supposed that it was a fair deal; their people had been trying to kill him and his, so their people would keep him alive. Simple. Right?_

_Except that the more he had, the more he wanted. He only just stopped himself when the first person started to go limp and began with the other lying next to them._

_He thought that he heard raised voices. He ignored them. So this was what it was like. . ._

_The voices grew more and more insistent. Closer and closer to him and his prey. With, for a human, quiet steps that he nonetheless could hear as clearly as he could the slowing heartbeat of the man he was currently attached to._

_Insistent. Worried. Panicked. Scared. Fearful. They had that right. He was ten times as powerful as any human, even one with magic in their veins._

_He half heard and half felt the hand snake tentatively towards his crouched shoulder. Someone wanted to interrupt him! To take him away from his. . ._

_His head whipped around. Fangs still bared, one of them caught right through two or three layers of clothing to slash through skin underneath. Then his head tilted upwards and his eyes saw a face and it was his face and he was afraid, afraid, so afraid –_

_But he couldn't stop himself. Fangs continued hurtling towards that place, gravitated there._

_Blood –_

Kudo Shinichi woke up in his bed, sweating profusely. The air around him still rang with a horrified scream which he knew even without hearing it was his own. A hand lifted to his face, dragged hair away from his eyes.

He hauled himself out of bed and looked at the clock. Too late to be called night and too early to be called morning. He groaned, but it came out shuddered, his breaths coming as gasps.

He had been having the nightmares close to every night ever since the event had happened. It hadn't, of course, happened that way in reality. In reality, he had been shocked just enough at seeing Kaito's face, a perfect match for his own save for the violet tinge in the boy's eyes, a mask of fear compelling him to be able to stop. He had just sat there shell-shocked at what he had almost done, had done, tears slipping out of his eyes. Kaito had tried to comfort him, but that wasn't worth much when he knew that he had been the one to give the thief – his _friend_, damn it – a worse wound than he had ever received at a heist.

He hadn't felt himself to be trusted. He had told the others, all of them, eventually, what exactly he was and - vaguely, as he wasn't ready yet for the looks of disgust - what had taken place. Hakuba had recovered quickly. Koizumi had looked more than slightly disapproving, though of what he didn't know. Hattori had looked serious, and Ran . . . Well, Ran just promised to be there for him no matter what anyway. He didn't deserve her as a friend, and if that incident had taught him anything, it had been that he couldn't afford to have her as anything more.

Life, more or less, had gone back to normal. Or at least a semblance of normal.

_Life always does_, thought Shinichi, as he went down to his kitchen to get himself something to stop the shakes. Possibly with a little added caffeine.

---

AN: And so there you have it. Various missing bits from the last chapter and epilogue of TVD, and setting the scene for the story to come. I've been looking forward to writing that bit for absolutely ages. P_^

Unfortunately for the story's many followers, I'm thinking of shelving it for a while to get the plot straightened out in my head. I will continue to write it whenever I can, but it will usually be into my notepad rather than my computer. This will also give me a chance to get on with various other stories I've either written or had in mind. As I said, it won't be stopped, I'll only be putting less effort in for a while.

I hope this pleases until the next chapter is finished P_^


	2. Open Up Your Eyes

The Vampire Detective – Second Grace

Chapter One – By the Harsh Light of Day

Disclaimer: I own TVDverse. Not the characters. Well, not most of them, anyway.

_Like one that on a lonesome road  
Doth walk in fear and dread,  
And having once turned round walks on,  
And turns no more his head;  
Because he knows, a frightful fiend  
Doth close behind him tread._

_Samuel Taylor Coleridge, __The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_

_---_

By the time sunlight came by way of dawn, the sheer amount of headache reminded Shinichi of the time when he had drunk half a bottle of strong alcohol in the thought that it would cure him for a few hours more that one time. Not to mention that, despite the fact that he was a vampire now and therefore theoretically immune to nearly all types of diseases, a subtle feel of nausea continued to berate him for most of the morning.

So, all in all, it wasn't too surprising for him when, only a couple of steps into the classroom, his arm was caught in a relatively strong grip and he was suddenly being dragged out of the room and towards the deserted music room which, coincidentally, also had no windows, being an inside room.

"Kudo Shinichi, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing? You look terrible!"

Shinichi tried to put on a nonchalant look but failed. The yawn might have had something to do with it.

"It's not fair. It really isn't. I don't know what's going on with you."

"I can deal with this, Ran. I've _told_ you. I –"

"You've asked me to trust you while _lying_ to me for over a _year_! So no. I _don't_ want to hear your excuses. I know _something's_ wrong with you. Just tell me what's wrong, Shinichi. Please."

He leaned back against the wall, hands covering his face for a moment and running through bedraggled hair that was starting to look more like the thief's than his own.

He caught his reflection in the shiny surface of one of the instruments and shuddered, reminded.

"I cant," he said flatly. It was an old conversation.

"_Why_ can't you?"

"You wouldn't understand."

_I don't want you to._

"More like you won't _let_ me!" Shinichi winced. He hadn't thought that he was being obvious. "Won't you even let me _help_?"

He was on his feet and bearing down on her in an instant, oblivious to the momentary spike of fear.

"_NO_." The moment was lost into the now uncomfortable silence. Shinichi backed away. "I don't want to do that to you, Ran. Not to anyone. Not ever- " he cut himself off before he could complete the sentence with an unspoken curse. _Not ever again_.

Ran gave him a long look, but at long last averted her gaze.

"I'm only trying to help. But you won't let me."

"I _do_ let you help."

"No, Shinichi, you don't." She smiled, though a heartbreakingly warm and open smile. "I guess. . . I guess it's just one of those things that make you who you are."

Oddly enough, there wasn't any bitterness in what she said. Only sad disappointment that still marked her face even as she swept out of the room.

Shinichi himself stayed on, staring at the spot where she had been. Words whispered into a room which held a ghost of music in the air.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Ran."

A hundred different arguments and a thousand different dangers. But he could not protect her from himself.

----

It had been hard, to begin with.

Hard to remember.

He, who had been used to power, to invulnerability, to inhumanity, for so very, very long. . .

It had come as a shock to find out that he had never been alone. Never in all his long years, that short time on this green earth that he had been given, had he been the only one to wish another person dead and see it done. Never the only one to _enjoy_ it.

He wasn't – never had been – alone.

In some people this might elicit horror, terror, self-loathing.

All he felt was contempt, and disgust.

He was more than this, more than them. He had had _power!_

And _then_. . .

Then _he_ had come.

His plan had been perfect. Not like the others who were in here with him – _perfect_. It could have even handled the presence of one or more talented detectives. It had been designed for talented detectives.

And then _they_ had come. More accurately, _her_. Come, spoiled _everything_, and not even laid a hand on him to do so.

They had used someone else. Someone young, smart, with knowledge of at least a few of the old ways.

Taken him and changed him.

He knew it was _her_ because it had her touch all over it. Her smell. The wood in the walls and the silver in the bars that kept him in, chained him like iron could not, make him no better, no worse, no more _powerful_ than the others, the petty humans around him.

He snarled, eyes glinting in the electric light, and tested one last time the lock on the door.

Beyond even his hearing, someone walked the halls towards him, and smiled.

---

Up and down, ceiling to floor, chair to chair and wall to wall. Round and round, catch the eyes and let's go off again. . .

Footsteps, crashes, shouts and screams and the whistle of wood through air – all interspersed with the by now monotone drone of the teacher's lesson.

All in all it was a relatively normal day for that particular class of Ekoda High.

"You – you take that back, you . . . you _egoist_!"

Kuroba Kaito just laughed and dodged with less grace than his night-time persona, but then again this wasn't work. He was playing, and they both knew it.

The class was divided into three parts at any given time; those who rooted for Kaito, those who sided with Aoko, and those who simply watched for the show. Any others soon left, unable to take the craziness. Usually because they were either unable to learn because of the distractions or unable to teach, believing themselves not to be respected after the slightest prank.

Yet those who stayed grew used to the chaos, able to tell the moods of their magician almost as surely as if they could read his face. They could not have helped but notice the strangeness of the past few weeks. Things had gone from crazier than usual, to subdued – almost to the point of things being calm – to tense and on edge in the course of just a couple of weeks or so.

Currently, things were finding a new normality.

For most of the class, this meant watching things as they progressed and making sure that they avoided the firing lines. Keiko, for whom nothing much had really happened, nothing had truly changed – except, perhaps, for a new-found love of Jane Austen novels. Koizumi Akako had stopped draping herself over and around Kaito whenever she had the chance. Now, she only did it when she felt like it. The rest of her time was spent being friendly with the girl currently waving a mop around shouting mild abuse and trigonometry answers and devoting a certain amount of her power to getting a rise out of Hakuba, who had only recently been initiated into her world. Sometimes, both at the same time. Hakuba himself had changed in two major ways, and neither of them instantly recognisable. The first was that he knew, had incontrovertible _proof_, that Kuroba Kaito was also the Kaitou Kid. Said proof still resided in various places about his house, from the countless DNA samples left lying carelessly about to the miscellany of gadgets, gizmos and bits of spare costume that somehow found themselves in _his_ laundry after a heist. Had it been a year or more ago that this had happened the other boy would have been arrested and likely in prison by now. As things were, he separated the whites, blues and reds, making sure that Kuroba knew that he owed him each time and actively helping Aoko the next day, often in the form of finding subtle ways to trip the magician up in his flight. The second part of his troubles came with names, and Koizumi and Kudo were well and truly boxless. Kudo didn't even have a known blood type any more.

Aoko was undeniably stronger. Whether that was due to her recent experiences, her newfound reason to hit her best friend even harder than usual whenever the opportunity arose or the worrying fact that her friendship with one Mouri Ran had resulted in irregular karate classes (with mop in attendance), no one really knew.

Kaito, perversely, had actually become gradually more relaxed as the days wore on. This might or might not have had anything to do with the fact that almost everyone who he had been most worried about finding out his identity – and subsequently having him arrested and also in some cases hating his guts – was now on his side.

In the middle of a complex yet surprisingly simple-looking manoeuvre, things started to go wrong.

A resounding 'whack' filled the room, narrowly missing its target and making the audience stare.

Kaito, sprawled out on the floor between chairs and tables, blinked up at them in bemused surprise.

Rubbing at his left forearm, he got back up to the inevitable sea of worry and stares.

It might have just been his imagination. It should have been.

But he could have sworn that, just for a moment, long enough to disrupt the flow of his acrobatics, a seemingly old scar had acted up, hurting. . . aching.

Aching like old men who said that old wounds grew sore when the weather changed, and talked of youkai in the woods and ninja between the trees.

Behind the carefree poker face and the instinctive act of harmless clown that he put on for the class that came with it, he found himself start to worry.

---

For the rest of the day, Akako watched him.

It wasn't s though she didn't usually watch him anyway – he was a very interesting person to have in one's class, after all. And that didn't even account for the fact that he was impervious to her unnatural charms, either. Though it was a rather large part of the whole. It made the chase that much sweeter, the thrill and the suspense worth something.

The fact that he was an . . . item. . . already with the Nakamori girl only complicated things a little. A hurdle to be flown over, as it were.

Her red eyes narrowed as she watched him from a distance, stalking the wild in its natural habitat.

He seemed to be perfectly at ease as he temporarily turned Saguru-chan's hair green. Nothing seemed to be amiss when he put his head down and got on with his work, as he surely did do every so often during a day. All seemed well as he told bad jokes in the lunch hall and then later when he openly (if you were classed as one of Those Who Knew) teased Aoko about Kid, pondering the nature of the next heist and barely stopping short of a second mop fight.

Except, of course, for the fact that she, Koizumi Akako, was a witch. Not a simple magician was she, with their tricks and smoke and mirrors. Not even a _Magician_, one of those who had power in their very blood and being, yet mostly knew not a thing of it. She was a witch, who knew where her power came from thank you very much, and was definitely not afraid to use it. The sheer fact of the moment – the intrinsic knowledge that something was off with the boy – did not in fact need even an iota of power. Not for someone who had seen him with all of his masks torn off, who knew what had happened during those few eventful and full-of-chaos days.

It was the _what_ and the _why_ that had garnered her undivided interest.

As a witch, she was no stranger to the ways and wisdoms of the other ethereal and occult forces afoot in the world. She had long ago made deals with the devil, dined with demons, watched werewolves sing to the moon. Because of this, vampires were also no more fearful for her than tales of bogeymen. They were at points family friends and at other times at the end of points.

She didn't, however, know everything that there was to know. Unfortunately or not, her knowledge was limited in certain areas due to willingness in some parts and ability in others.

She didn't know everything that had gone on that night not so long ago. But she did know that _something_ had happened between the Magician and the vampire.

Fingernails drumming a staccato beat against her desk, she frowned while the teacher taught from the first act of the Scottish play.

---

All in all, it hadn't ended up being a good day for Shinichi.

His fight with Ran had only been the start, which had been followed with various people from his classes taunting them both with accusations that the match made in heaven – or makai, for those who annoyingly called him _shinigami_ for his 'talent' for finding dead bodies and murder scenes – had had a row. The fact that they had – well, it didn't help things any.

His headache had only become worse during the day, sunlight beating down mercilessly even through layers of clothes, vulnerable and exposed skin feeling at points as though it were being sunburned.

He had had to go home for the lunch hour. Nothing else would have saved his temper from his hunger pangs.

Not that it had helped very much. The rest of the day had passed in a coffee-induced stupor which had only served to make his current situation worse. The only fortunate things about it were that he had not lost control of his temper even once, and that the vampiric nature of his blood allowed the caffeine to both work all the quicker into his bloodstream and also dissolve out of it not too long after.

As a result, he was now stumbling homeward, not looking at all himself with a Tokyo Spirits cap on his head to ward of stray sunlight and expecting to be stopped at any moment for his uncanny resemblance to Kid.

He stumbled just outside the professor's, only preternatural reflexes and speed allowing him to keep himself upright. Looked around for anything that might have tripped him up.

Feverish eyes alit on wide brown ones belonging to a little girl of perhaps seven, who had been sitting by the wall next to two other boys. Shinichi opened his mouth in surprise, berating himself for having even possibly forgotten about the kids, before making a quick getaway and fumbling with the key for the gate in its lock.

As he got through, his superior hearing could just about make out small voices carried on the wind.

". . _. ne, didn't Shinichi-niisan look upset? I don't think he looked well. . ."_

"_. . . I usually look like that when I'm not very well at all. Like when I've eaten too much eel pie and. . ."_

"_. . . not all about food, Genta! He obviously had a fever of some sort. Otherwise he would have gotten better by now. Because, you know, most medicines don't work on vi- vairo- fevers. ._ ."

He shivered and shut the door.

_If you hadn't held back_, began a small, quiet voice in his head that whispered in his ear. If _you hadn't held back, then they would still have been there_.

He took off his shoes and changed into his house slippers.

_There are usually very few outward signs of a person's capability of being a murderer. . ._

He walked down the hall, taking his jacket off and putting it on a hook.

_You, who is such a good, great detective. What was it that Holmes said?_

"Eliminate all other–"

_A detective, being as he is, is always only one or two steps away from becoming that which he hunts_. . .

Shinichi snarled and turned his head away. He hadn't done it. He knew. Every so often, he would call and hear the thief's voice, he would look at himself, was able to say 'these are the things that I do; are they the actions of a criminal?'. He would look at the many people so concerned about him, who wouldn't likely care. . .

Even if it terrified _him_.

---

AN: Short, I know. Mostly written in notepad first. The first Holmes quote was from actual canon, and is one of the infamous ones that Shinichi and Holmes often use. The second I couldn't find straight away, so I ad-libbed a little.

Double, double, toil and trouble/ Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble/ By the pricking of my thumbs/ Something wicked this way comes...


	3. One Step Closer To The Edge

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Disclaimer: There are some characters in this that I own. Not many, but they are there.

Chapter 2 – One Step Closer To The Edge

_And I'm about to – break – _Lincoln Park_._

---

Freedom.

For different people, it can mean different things at different times. For some it means being free from restrictions and not having to worry about rules or regulations or duties. For others, it means simply being safe, secure, not having to worry about people harming you or hunting you down or hating you, where nothing else matters except that you are loved.

Everyone has their own idea of what freedom is. Sometimes it is literal –

_He smiles, and the man smiles back at him. Nothing is expected of him, except to wait for orders; and from what he has heard, these kinds of orders will be the kind that involve his own passions and hobbies, making them not so much work as commissioned works of art. _

_Smugly he saunters down the road as they watch him with mixed feelings. All of it was completely legal – all, that is, apart from the exchange of money that had validated the entire thing in the eyes of the man in charge. None of the others had liked it, but then again they hadn't had to. Out of his cell, not only had their lives been in his hands to choose whether they lived or died, but the man that he had been with had had a certain amount of. . . leverage, also. _

_He had been able to tell that the man had not liked him either, but that was good. _

_He smiles, and fangs glint in the moonlight._

_He idly wonders whether devils ever made deals with other devils._

-and sometimes it is perceived, a thing of ethereal presence that you cannot hold in your hands, as it will evaporate into moonshine and vapours.

---

_The hallways still flicker by the light of the electric bulbs, giving his sensitive vision spots where the brightest lights were seconds ago._

_Colours blur. So do sounds. So do memories. So do morals._

_He returns to the place where they all were, as much out of breath as a panther would be on a cool day and after a long drink at the oasis. An apt metaphor._

_He greets everyone normally, lying as easily as if there were silver on his dead tongue._

_The blood he wears isn't his. It isn't anyone's, any more._

_Ran takes him in her arms; he breathes in her scent. There is a light of suspicion in Hattori's eyes and Hakuba is wondering where the thief is. The witch's eyes narrow as she sees him like this for the first time, but she never gets the chance to say anything; he smiles. . . smiles, and it's just enough to show teeth, too much tooth, and of all of them, she is the only one who knows what it means._

_Sooner or later, it will come out. But he will be ready._

_And when he tries to think that what he is doing is wrong, he will remember._

_Remember that moment, here and gone so fast that any mortal would not have known that it had even passed. A look of fear, which grew to terror, which made him feel at the same time horrified and full of a kind of ecstasy._

_If he has gone past that point, then there is little reason to turn back. Little that he cannot do_. . .

This time, he does not wake up with adrenaline and sweat and he doesn't sit up and get out of bed straight away. He does not get himself coffee, or blood, to calm himself down. Instead he simply lies there for a time, body clenched into a foetal position with knees hugging his chest, covers cocooning him being soaked through by a cold sweat that should not have been possible.

_It wasn't me_, he keeps trying to remind himself. _I didn't do it. They're not dead. I didn't. . . I couldn't. . . Not me_. . .

It doesn't work, not really.

Eventually he gets up and gets dressed, knowing that it would be an impossibility, an idiocy, to attempt sleep for a second time that night. For a moment his muscles cramp and hurt due to their tenseness during the past few hours.

He goes down the stairs slowly, not wanting to risk anything what with the state he is in.

He doesn't bother with coffee and veers away from the concealed part of his fridge with a vehemence that he hadn't felt since the first time, soon after he had had it installed.

So he goes out.

With the moon out, his eyesight is better than normal, eyes catching on stars and lamps alike.

Not thinking, trying not to think, he lets his feet lead him. They lead him to the park.

A sort of instinct takes over at the sights and smells of nature. Footfalls all but silent, he can hear everything that there is to hear; not too long ago this would have been unbearable to listen to, but now it is not, his breathing and heartbeat so quiet that they are almost nonexistent. The smells reach out to him, as changing as the attention span of a kitten and as lingering as the stench of blood at a crime scene. His attention is everywhere. It is no wonder he does not notice everything. Not at once.

And then. . . then he is back in his dream.

Lost blue eyes take in the scene with a detached and morbid fascination, all the while almost believing that the ones being watched are not real, will fade away in an instant, his steps not taking him further any faster than before, not believing it real, not necessary to run.

– _stench of blood at a crime scene –_

All at once the figure that could have been from a mirror for a few delusional seconds is gone, then there and now a shadow and now gone, disappeared from sight.

Like in a dream, he kneels down beside the park bench, his body going through the motions even though his mind isn't there yet, perhaps denying thought processes on purpose. Fingers seek out a pulse, signs of life, _anything_, half understanding even before he got to the point what it was that he would find – he has seen it and been through it so many times before, after all.

Fingers slip at the neck.

His detective's mind wakes up just enough to supply him with the curiosity to ask of himself why that had happened. Just enough to look, see –

Blue.

It must have been paint. A practical joke.

Not so uncommon any more, not since a certain phantom thief entered his life. Such things sometimes happened when neither had seen each other for days, even, and both pleaded innocent. Which was not much of a defence for those who knew the kaitou. A practical joke in bad taste, then.

_. . . But since when did paint smell like blood?_

A glance at the sky. Around him. Everywhere was covered in a blue nimbus that even vampiric eyesight could not dispel and turn into a technicolour landscape.

He looked back at his hand. His hand, pale as was normal now, paler than normal, with two smeared stains of _blue_. The same _blue_ as was on the neck of the man – _body_ – on the park bench.

Unlike how most people and passers-by would react, everything happened in reverse for him. He had already been numb, so the only way for his consciousness to go was up. The reflexive action for a detective's mind at this point in time was to work, to figure things out, to detect. There wasn't much to detect.

An unheard, unvoiced scream shattered the silence of the night.

---

In the hazy light of an early winter morning, Teitan High school was letting only dim light through its windows, resulting in an almost fog-like feeling. Despite this, most of both the student and teacher populations were active, if not excited, each one going up to the nearest confused or unknowing-looking face and informing them of the situation with a seriousness that usually wasn't associated with gossip. If anything, the muted light added to the grim atmosphere, waking people up instead of keeping them half-asleep.

As Suzuki Sonoko strode through the halls as though on a mission – actually, make that _on_ a mission, she might as well be – people shied away from her slightly. The talkative girl was well known for her love of rumours and famous characters, but this was a different thing entirely. This involved her best friend.

The best friend who was heading over this way right now, just like she'd been told by Aniko-san in class 4-b. Sonoko frowned. Ran shouldn't be here – honestly, it was as though the girl had no contacts whatsoever. She couldn't have been walking around this morning with both her eyes and her ears closed, could she? She snorted. More likely just too used to it, even after all this time.

One of the boys in their class, some guy she couldn't remember the name of, walked up to Ran, seemingly to offer condolences. Sonoko went up to them and shoved the guy out of the way with a light push before he could say anything.

"Oi. Beat it."

The boy – soccer club, maybe? That'd explain how they seemed to know each other – gave Ran a sympathetic look and nodded at her before going into class. Ignoring the teacher's stern look as she went in, Sonoko dragged her friend halfway down the hall so that it would be less likely that someone from class could overhear before starting to talk herself.

"Ran-chan, what is _with_ you? I know your boyfriend's been a real doofus recently, but that's no excuse! How can you not have heard and still be here, you idiot!"

Ran didn't answer. She simply sighed and looked away.

"Oh, no. It's a fever. Isn't it? _Please_ tell me it isn't a fever. . ."

Another sigh.

"It's not a fever, Sonoko. I just. . . wish things were better between Shinichi and me. That's all."

At this, her mood darkened slightly, and it must have shown on her face because suddenly, Ran was just that little bit more attentive.

"Yeah. Speaking of that brainiac detective boyfriend of yours. There's something you should know."

"What? And stop calling him that! He's not my boyfriend!"

Sonoko merely snorted.

"Psh. Yeah, right. Whatever. You've been miserable these last couple of weeks, just because you two were fighting. Nothing – absolutely nothing! – that I could do made you feel any better. And what I'm about to say is only gonna make it worse."

This got Ran's attention like nothing else ever had. If it hadn't been such a serious matter, she would've considered using such tactics to get the other girl's attention more often. As it was, the thought didn't even cross her mind.

"What? What is it? Is Shinichi in trouble-?"

"Yeah," Sonoko said in a deceptively airy tone, focusing on a flickering light halfway down the hall that really needed to be fixed. "You could say that. He's over at the police station, last I heard. Press isn't allowed anywhere near."

"...Huh? But Shinichi's at the police station practically all the time. All those crimes he solves; he has to give statements and stuff. I've done it almost as many times as he has."

Sonoko shook her head.

"Not like that. What I heard was, they've got him in for _questioning_. No one knows what for, though. Like I said, press clamp-down. I didn't believe them then and I don't now – that mystery freak wouldn't ever hurt anyone or do anything criminal to save his life – but . . . Ran-chan, ne, what's wrong?"

The look on Ran's face was almost scary. There was a kind of paleness there, along with a scared, _this isn't happening_ look that made Sonoko want to start looking for the dead body. That was when she usually saw that kind of face; when someone'd just been killed. Or when they'd found someone dead. Didn't matter which.

"Ne, Ran-chan? You are all right, right? We know it isn't him. I just didn't want some thoughtless punk to go barging in with their big mouth, that's all."

It was then that Ran looked at her. Really looked at her, in the eye. Through her, almost, her hands on Sonoko's shoulders.

"I need to get to him. I need to – this is bad. He needs me, Sonoko. You understand that, right?"

She nodded.

"Got you. I'll tell the teacher."

And with that, Ran dashed off into the sunrise, leaving Sonoko striding purposefully back to class with a mission: Tell sensei why Mouri Ran isn't coming to school today.

She nodded to herself. It sounded like a good mission to her.

---

By the time Ran had reached the police station, her head had been filled with enough worst-case scenarios to drive her half crazy. She, best friend of a meitantei who just kept on falling over murders and mysteries did, after all, have quite a lot to go on. Not to mention the fact that even if Shinichi was stronger now, if the Black Organisation did turn up then things would probably go straight to hell in a handbasket, what with him being the way he was just recently.

Bad. Things would be very bad. She didn't know exactly what had happened to him back in that warehouse rescuing Aoko-chan, and a part of her didn't want to know, but whatever it was had definitely freaked him somehow.

Because of, or perhaps in spite of the fact that her mystery loving geek was currently a ticking time bomb, Ran had only one thought in her head, and that was to get to Shinichi. It didn't really matter that the people around him were probably in danger when the thought crossed her mind, and neither did the idea that she might be putting herself in danger worry her.

Shinichi. . . you idiot. . .

As the police station came into view, she ploughed through the congregation of reporters, cameramen, gawkers and tourists, sometimes forgetting to say 'excuse me' and sometimes not needing to, what with no few of them having recognised her.

She ran blindly into the building, not having even the faintest of clues as to where he might be and more than ready to just start searching from there when a hand fell on her shoulder, stopping her in her path.

She started, half turning around only to see the sympathetic faces of police detectives Takagi and Sato.

"Ran-san! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Ran shook her head, determined not to let them see just how worried she was. Instead, she let out one word. "Shinichi. . ."

Sato sighed.

"Ran-chan, do you know what's going on?" Her eyes widened, and she shook her head again, mute this time. "Well, neither do we, to tell the truth. We found Kudo-kun a few hours ago. He. . . I've heard it didn't look too good."

"But Shinichi wouldn't ever do anything bad!" Ran cried out, not caring that she was in a police station and saying those words. "He wouldn't! We've gone through this before – last month, remember? Shinichi was accused of something he didn't do – it was someone else, wearing his face – it _can't_ have been him. Don't you see?"

Takagi's hand went up to his forehead in a frustrated gesture.

"But, that is. . . it's not like that this time. It was. . . definitely him."

Ran noticed the falter, and knew what caused it. It was the same kind of falter that anyone who had known Shinichi well before the transformation, whether they knew it or not, had when confronted with irrevocable proof that he wasn't as he appeared. It usually wasn't enough for them to say that he was a vampire directly, but it was enough that someone would be able to tell if it was him or not simply by looking. The pale skin and graceful movements usually gave him away. Even Kaito-kun simply couldn't copy him unless he wanted to be copied.

This, however, did not deter her. If anything, it only made her will stronger.

"I need to see him. Talk to him. He'd sooner save a serial killer than do anything like that himself!"

Takagi and Sato shared a grim look. She faltered.

"What. . .? What is it?"

"Ran-chan. . . Kudo-kun isn't speaking. Not to anyone. Not even about anything not to do with the case. He's just sitting there. I don't think he's even moved that much since he came."

Takagi shook his head sadly.

"No, he has moved once or twice. Usually to get away from people, though. It's not good. Even if – especially if – he is innocent, that kind of behaviour makes it _seem_ like he isn't."

"But he is innocent-!"

She was cut off by a new, familiar voice that she had not expected to be anywhere near.

"Then we'll just have to prove it then – right, Hakuba?"

She whipped around for a second time, hardly believing her eyes when they showed her the face of Kuroba Kaito, and sure enough, pushing his way through the crowds, was an easily distinguishable blond.

"Eh? Hakuba?"

Kaito turned back to the way he'd come in, only to sweatdrop slightly at the way his lead had caused the British detective to almost get swallowed up by the crowd. The magician held up a finger.

"Wait just one moment," he said, and went back into the massed molasses, extracted Hakuba, and came back to where he had been standing, not out of breath in the slightest – a stark contrast to Hakuba Saguru himself, who looked a very serious yet somehow comic amalgamation of frustration, worry, annoyance, consternation and not a little frightened anxiety.

"Now, what was I saying?"

Hakuba, in the midst of smoothing his metaphorical feathers, took the time to glare lightly at his friend-slash-rival.

"I'm not sure what you could have been saying to them, but the last thing I heard you say is not, I am sure, fit for the present company."

Kaito smiled, and pleasantly asked Hakuba to shut up. Then, he turned to the two police officers, a deceptively serious look on his face for the prankster that anyone who knew him was familiar with.

"Where is he?" came the question. Unlike when Ran had said it, there was no desperation, and the tone was completely rational. In fact, it almost didn't sound like a question at all, if one ignored the fact that he did not know the answer. The two police shared another, more uncertain look, before allowing the three teenagers to follow them. Hakuba was a well-known detective, after all, whose reputation was similar if not as good as Kudo Shinichi's. Kuroba Kaito. . . had been noticed during the time in which they had all stood fort in the Hakuba mansion while 'Kid' had gone to rescue Nakamori Aoko. Besides, after allowing through accident and design a number of grade-schoolers onto crime scenes, this wasn't much different. For one thing, they _were_ older.

It was only by chance that Ran found that Kaito was nervous, when she caught him lightly gripping his left arm.

---

They walked down the corridors, and Kaito expressly forbid himself to react. Either to the fact that he was Kaitou Kid in a police station, of his own will and without any sort of disguise, or the fact that he was Kuroba Kaito, about to have a private chat with a friend. Who happened to be in the next interrogation room along. Who happened to be a detective, and a, well, vampire.

His left arm itched.

He saw the door to the bare room – one occupant, not entirely deceased – and the open door not so far away on the same side of the hall. From what he knew of police procedures, which was admittedly quite a lot, the room next door was the others side of a two-way mirror, with recording equipment to capture anything from a clue to a confession. _Growing up with the Nakamoris definitely had its benefits_, he mused to himself while convincing everyone – Hakuba and Ran included – to let him talk with Shinichi. Alone, with no one watching.

It probably went against at least one or two rules and bent several others, but he was pretty sure that he would agree to a date with Koizumi long before Kudo started to talk, let alone got his backside out of that room, unless he went in there on his own.

Hakuba gave him one of his patented suspicious 'just what kind of trick is it that you're about to play?' looks. He threw a grin over in the detective's direction, and went on in.

The door closed behind him, and he fought hard not to flinch even slightly. The noise reverberated around the room for a moment before leaving them in silence.

And it was. What with the fact that no one was watching them meaning that he was just relaxed enough to not have to watch his steps to make them normal and noisy, and the fact that his near twin looked like he was only half conscious sitting up, there were hardly any sounds to hear.

He leaned against the wall opposite, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"Oi, Kudo." Nothing. "Tantei-kun – wake up." Still nothing. How could he not even twitch at the sound of Kid's voice? _Okay. . . maybe it's time for another tactic_. "Ran's out there," he said plainly.

A twitch.

"She said she'd heard from Sonoko," he continued, as if it were a normal conversation. He usually tried to stay away from the ditzy blonde, as her obsession with his alter ego was more than a little unnerving when she already had a boyfriend. But when he found that out, he could have kissed the girl. On the cheek.

Another twitch. Obviously, he was getting somewhere.

"Takagi-keiji and Sato-keiji are both worried about you, you know. Megure-keibu's beside himself."

Movement at last. Kudo's head had turned away from him. Not the kind of improvement he had been after, but after the last few minutes, his expectations hadn't even been this high. _Well, it's something, at least. At least it's something_.

Kaito detached himself from the wall, gracefully sliding into the seat across from Kudo, unobtrusively and, in fact, as comfortingly as was possible.

"We know you didn't do it."

This time the vampire didn't move, but with a rattle of a gasp started to breath normally again in a way that sounded, at least to Kaito, just a little painful. Slowly, slower than before, his near twin turned back to face him, blue eyes boring into blue-violet.

Kaito didn't need telepathy to see what was going on in the other's head at that moment. Pain was the greatest contributor, being of a kind that mirrored something that he had seen in the mirror only a short few months ago, a kind that still brought him to his knees with frustration, shame and a feeling of helplessness. For Shinichi, who was that much stronger than he was, the feeling was likely much, much worse...

Kaito broke eye contact. There was something in Kudo's eyes, a sort of intensity that he couldn't claim to as simply a human thief. A sort of . . . hatred? . . . no, surely not. It was more like Shinichi was disgusted with himself. Which was almost certainly something connected to the case. Kaito had felt a feeling of instinctual possession, of a not-human sort of strain.

His left arm itched, but instead of scratching it, he held it out in front of him. Shinichi, being his usual self a slight bit more, stared at him incredulously. It was the sort of look that was usually reserved for a quick and silent 'Are you _really_ that stupid?' just before he did something that, to any normal person, really _was_ that stupid.

He snorted.

"Look," he said, breaking the silence. "I know almost all of your side of story for last night – not that I could tell the police that," he added with another snort. Like they'd believe what he had to say. Yeah, right. "You forget, you weren't the only night owl when you stayed over at my place. The number of times I saw you get up in the middle of the night, or hardly sleep at all..." Kaito repressed a sigh of amusement. It wasn't like Tantei-kun to miss anything. "I'm guessing that sometime last night, you woke up, making a beeline for the fridge. Then, you went out." He stopped there, because Kudo's eyes had gone blank again the moment he had mentioned the action. _All right, more clues. We should be able to work with this later. . . _ "So, I deduct, oh Holmes fanatic, that you aren't exactly going to eat me alive." Okay, bad joke. "Or dead," he corrected himself. Shinichi was still staring.

Kaito blinked. "What?"

He followed the blue eyes down to his arm, and noticed that it must have been the first time since the incident that Shinichi had seen his scar. It was coming into wintertime after all, so he usually didn't have reason to have his arms showing. And besides; anyone else would have asked questions.

"Huh. That. It's nothing," he said. And it was true. He'd received worse when being chased around by Hakuba and the rest of the Task Force in the early days of his career as the Kaitou Kid. Compared to most of that, a scratch – be it from a vampire or not – was nothing. "I've had worse. Go on – you look like you're not gonna be able to stand up even before you do. Just be careful, right?"

He hardly even noticed it. Somehow, he had come to expect that if he ever had to do what he currently was doing, it would hurt a lot more than it was. Seeing the guy nearly drain someone that first time was possibly one of the reasons why. But now, it was like the nurses said when they were about to poke you with great big giant needles. Kaito himself didn't fear needles nearly as much as he feared, say, _fish_, but even compared to needles it wasn't much. There wasn't anything still in there, feeling as if it was wiggling around the insides of your veins, arteries and muscles just because of how long it was, since the fangs weren't actually that long. He'd seen them before. He should know.

And all of a sudden, it was over, and he didn't even feel all _that_ light-headed. Absently and with more than a little curiosity, he glanced down at his arm, only to find that the two pinprick wounds were already healing. His eyebrows raised, he muttered "Cool."

"Are you . . . an idiot?"

The words came out rough and vaguely ragged as though the user hadn't talked in a long while, but Kudo was speaking again.

Kaito grinned and nodded.

"Yep. That's me."

Shinichi stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head.

A few minutes passed by in which neither spoke. Kaito prodded and poked the two fading pinpricks on his forearm. Shinichi looked away, but then back again. Kaito looked up.

"Hey," he said softly. "You ready now?"

Kudo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He nodded.

"I . . . yes. I think so. Maybe."

"Need anything? Anything at all?" Kaito thought. What else might a vampire need... "Water?"

Shinichi opened is mouth like he wanted to say something, but then let it close again, reconsidering. He nodded, averting his eyes. Kaito merely grinned and tapped his ear. Shinichi's eyes widened, apparently seeing the device attached there for the first time

"Oi, Hakuba."

There was a short pause during which Shinichi's eyebrows raised as Hakuba answered, asking what he wanted. Kaito was sure that Tantei-kun over there could clearly hear the muted voices in the background, if the wide-eyed and pale yet somehow also amused look he was currently sporting was anything to go by.

"We'll be needing," he said to the blond detective in the other room, "some water. Oh, and the recording equipment back. Ah, that's right, isn't it, Kudo?"

The look the detective on his end shot him had all the imagery that 'duh' simply could not contain as simply a word.

"_What?_ Kuroba, what's going on in there? Is Kudo-kun talking with you?"

Kaito blinked.

"Well, yeah. I think that's what I said."

"I. . . right. Of course. Water..."

"Yeah."

"...and the recording equipment back."

"Yep."

There was a short pause, though Kaito could hear the odd word every so often.

"I'll bring them through."

"Thanks. I mean it."

From the look on Shinichi's face, he meant it, too. After all, Ran would worry even if he did want to see her so soon after what had happened. Officers Takagi and Sato didn't even know what he was, even though they were the two police who knew him the most – whether _they_ knew that or not was another matter entirely.

And so after some deliberation they decided on which types of things would be all right to leave in, and which had to go. After that, the tape recorder was turned on, and the story began. Kudo left out not even the smallest detail that could be told, not skipping out on anything that could be told in full. Some events though were blurred from shock, a side effect that the detective had previously thought that he would never suffer from.

Kaito kept his Poker Face firmly in place. It wouldn't do to have the guy think he thought Shinichi was the monster here, even if happened to be accidental.

---

Some time later, the two boys could be seen coming out of the room, and for once Kaito's hair was lying flat against his head. That might have had something to do with the fact that it was sopping wet and the scowl on Shinichi's face might have had something to do with it.

None of these things appeared to have deterred the magician however, by the seems of things, but as Saguru knew, what was on the surface wasn't always the same as what was going on underneath.

The Kid was always laughing.

Aside from that...

"You're dripping on the floor, Kuroba. And you are just as bad as he is sometimes, Kudo-kun."

Kudo glanced at him sharply, but only looked away with a noncommittal shrug, reminding him of earlier, when he had delivered the things asked for only to see the detective of the East looking like a person half alive, vampire status notwithstanding. It had given him shivers, having known Kudo-kun – albeit vaguely, and as Edogawa Conan instead of as Kudo Shinichi – before, as someone who was usually a happy and easily amused if serious person, which was only to be expected in the profession of detective.

He could simply be glad that Ran-san hadn't seen her childhood friend like that. She was strong, but...

He was distracted when officers Takagi and Sato came out of the adjoining room, probably having heard the door shut when the two in front of him had exited. He himself had waited outside after bringing the equipment and water in. Ran was with them, and predictably let out an overjoyed cry at seeing Shinichi up, about and if not smiling then at least attempting to antagonise Kuroba. An activity that, while not enjoyable in the sense that it was guaranteed to make a person smile, it was definitely a relatively safe stress relief option.

Once Kudo had managed to become detached to a certain extent, he held out the all-important little see-through plastic case which protected his spoken evidence. Officer Sato took it slightly nervously, as though she couldn't really and truly believe that such a famous person on the side of the law _needed_ to give evidence for such a thing. She almost looked as though it would bite.

Ironic, really.

Once done, Kudo went back to how he'd been before, standing mostly frigidly to one side of the hall, with his back to the wall and with his eyes always watching. Watching everything, everyone. It wasn't the same kind of expectant anticipation that he associated with Kid heists, even now – trying to figure out which out of the several dozen uniformed police Kuroba had decided to dress up as and be tonight was more of a game, a challenge of wits. It wasn't even the same as the blessed few times Kudo had frozen up at the faint suspicion that the Black Organisation was in the general vicinity. There was always a sort of gleam in his eye, daring them to do their worst, knowing that even if there were a dozen men trying to take him down and his people out, he believed that would always come out on top.

This was different. Kudo was more aware, more alert than Saguru had ever seen him. When the British detective turned to his long-time rival, he saw the same expression expertly hidden in the thief's body language and the way he moved his eyes.

It wasn't just that, either. Kudo looked _tired_. Exhausted, somehow. Not that Saguru was able to tell the difference between a vampire's physical states, but he was certain that it could not be healthy. Nor was the confusion or the ready willingness to deny whatever was on that tape had ever happened if only he could find proof, or . . .

All in all, even though he had not the same insight that Kuroba had gone into the interrogation room with or the knowledge of his character that Ran and the others did, he could tell an innocent man when he saw one.

_Innocent, but as safe as a ticking time bomb_, he admitted to himself seconds later, when Kudo opened his mouth to speak and the words came out haltingly instead of confidently.

"I. . . it should all be on there. I..." A fist clenched in silent anger, but his voice remained the same. "I couldn't remember it all. If there is. . . anything I can do. At all. The . . . the place where it. . . I..." He trailed off.

"He needs to get out of here," Kaito said flatly.

Everyone there turned to look at the magician, except Kudo himself – who had turned his face away. Takagi spluttered slightly and Sato frowned.

"But – Kuroba-san! I, I understand that but even if Kudo-kun isn't a suspect any more, he's still a witness! There is paperwork, and..."

"All things which can be done at a later date, when Kudo-kun is of a clearer mind," Saguru interjected. "Making no assumptions about guilt either way, he is not about to be going out of this building alone. I am certain that it will be possible to have at least one person who he knows with him at all possible times, if that is what is necessary."

_One of the first things you ever learn when dealing with animals or birds of any kind_, he reflected, _is that you don't put the dangerous predator with claws in a small space. You would usually end up with an awful lot of scratched walls. I somehow doubt that the situation is any different here_.

It took a few minutes – including a brief conversation with Megure-keibu – before they could leave. And when they did, he somehow wasn't surprised that Kuroba had slipped Kudo-kun a wide-brimmed hat on the way out, and that the vampire's hands were pressed firmly in his pockets.

---

AN: If you've looked at my profile or Deviantart account recently, you'll notice I've got pictures of a couple of the original characters who crop up next chapter. They're pretty important, and have been in the story before. It's also their first time in Second Grace next chapter.

Hopefully, the next update shouldn't take as long.


	4. Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Three

Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace

---

The rest of that day and the next dragged on with all the speed of a crippled snail, as Shinichi had wisely chosen not to go back to school until things had calmed down at least a little. Following up on Hakuba's promise, and their own unanimous decision not to let Shinichi be alone for his own good, he had hardly any time without some sort of visitor to the Kudo household, even if they didn't know anything about what was going on, or what he was, or if they were simply an acquaintance of sorts that he had spoken barely a full sentence to while in school. It was disconcerting and comforting at the same time.

Hattori had dropped by for a few hours at one point, even though Shinichi knew that he would have had to cut school himself to do so. That one time, Kazuha hadn't been with him. Hattori said that she had preferred to keep her grades the way they were, and that not everyone had a picture-perfect memory even if the rest of their brain wasn't as useful.

He had almost laughed at that.

Right before he had left, Hattori had promised two things – to come back when he could, and to help catch the guy that had done it.

Shinichi had only smiled weakly and nodded. Hattori had looked at him weirdly.

Kaito had apparently chosen to bunk off school each day so far, instead sleeping over at either hakase's or some spare room of the Kudo house itself, whether Shinichi agreed or not.

It was only on the afternoon of the second day that he actually sought the thief out only to find him denned out in the library, papers strewn everywhere in a way that would have had Kudo Yuusaku pulling his hair out – especially if it was his own mess – and definitely had Shinichi groaning and feeling like a headache of the normal variety was coming on. Until, that was, he took a closer look and found to his disbelief that Kaito had been planning a heist for that week, perhaps only a few days hence, that had been postponed. While this may have lightened his mood a few months ago, now that he knew the reason behind the thefts, he couldn't help but feel both guilty and grateful at the same time.

He did, after all, owe Kuroba a lot. Not to mention twice over, once for two weeks ago . . . and another for not having to tell everyone at once his entire confession. Even if he did believe that part of the reason Kaito was there was just as much to gain as much more information about what had happened as was possible, without seeming to threaten.

And somehow, even though he was Kuroba Kaito and therefore the epitome of chaos incarnate, he also had the control to be as unobtrusive as it was possible to be while always being only a few feet away.

Ran came over every day, and made dinner for the two boys every other day. She always came with news of what was going on at school, where the rumours were at, what her father had been up to since Shinichi had been away and – most importantly, yet always for some reason left until last – the most up to date findings on the case. She had been able to tell them all that Shinichi had been cleared of being a suspect later on the very day that he had given in his statement. Though that was, Shinichi privately thought, just as much because of his reputation than because of the evidence found.

Hakuba Saguru, however, did not agree with him on that point. The British detective had been keeping in contact with him via email and appraising him of personal developments into the case, some of which included the fact that there was evidence somewhere, specifically Hakuba's private computer, that even the vampire Kudo Shinichi had not done the crime – in fact, he had somehow managed to wrangle two blood samples off of the coroner. One was of blood taken via syringe from an area of the victim's body which was nowhere near the neck, and the other was from the area specific to the place around which the victim had been bitten. Also taken were swabs of the immediate area in the hope that there might have still been some saliva on the skin.

It was unlikely that it would get any hits on a state system, but it was something. Something that had worked for them so far.

The Shounen Tantei had dropped by a couple of times, too. Apparently, they had still been helping the police with their cases, even if one Edogawa Conan was not still with them and leading them all the way through. Ai was still there, after all, and so was Hakase. He found himself strangely drawn to the group, the old familiarity of it.

Yet at the same time he had also been lucky to have the magician never too far away, ready and willing to act as a distraction at a moment's notice. Which, as it happened, became pretty much all the time – such as when Shinichi got too nervous for any reason, or tired, or if the kids were asking too many questions hitting a little too close to home.

Sometimes, he wondered if he had somehow taught them too well. Then he thought that he'd prefer too well taught to not taught at all. The world was a dangerous place. Especially with him in it.

And whenever he tried to remember the by now infamous event. . . his world turned blue.

---

Painted red nails tapped a staccato onto the school desk their owner sat at, every so often pausing and sometimes joined by a second hand that accompanied with a melody, disconcerting those nearby with the strange quality of the finger-tapped music.

Koizumi Akako was not, at this point in time, calm or content in any way. In fact, she was puzzled, frustrated, perturbed and annoyed. It was the fifth day running in which Kuroba Kaito-kun had not attended class.

It was also the day on which she had foreseen a heist note appearing in the papers, yet the face of the Kid had also been mysteriously missing from publicity. Which did not say very much at all, except that whatever had Kuroba-kun preoccupied, occupied _all_ of his time, not just the daylight hours of his life.

Add all of this to the fact that the very last time he had been seen had been just before he had left to bail Kudo-san out again and it could only mean that the vampiric detective was detaining the Kaitou once again. That Kuroba-kun had still been in contact via phone, email and classwork meant at least that the magician was in one piece.

Mostly ignoring the teacher, she sighed with irritation and added an iota to her pout.

It had to be that newly-fledged vampire's fault. Everything seemed to be, nowadays. Before, it had just been her, Kuroba-kun, Aoko-kun and maybe Saguru-chan as a side-distraction. Now, of course, it was Kudo Shinichi this and Kudo Shinichi that. Kudo Shinichi who had stolen her Kaitou away. Kudo Shinichi who had caused her maid- friend, Aoko-kun, to be bad tempered to everyone and especially Kaito because Kuroba-kun was gone. Kudo Shinichi who had deprived her of one of her favourite game-toys, when his predicament had caused one Hakuba Saguru to be so fixated on said _case_ that he barely reacted any more. And the stiff British detective did have _such_ good reactions, most of the time...

Yet they had been taken away from her. The Kuroba-kun lookalike might be nice to look at sometimes – there was, after all, something attractive about those sharp yet smooth vampiric lines to the face, and coming from a witch who specialised in the magic of glamour that was quite the racial compliment – but enough did sometimes get to be enough. They had been her people first.

Kudo Shinichi would have to be. . . _dealt_ with.

Unlike most of the other times when she had had to deal with someone for any reason, this time she had what could almost be described as a slight grimace on her preternaturally beautiful face.

Dealing with vampires – especially the older ones – tended to be tedious, as a general rule. And when they weren't tedious, they tended to be impossible to deal with even so, affecting that effortless air of mystery of theirs. Luckily, Kudo had not yet received that particular trait. Hopefully, he wouldn't grow into it.

The school bell rang, and as always the entire male population of the class watched as she rose from her seat, like a queen rising from her throne. This time, though, there were no distractions – no fading sound of mop hitting desk or chair or even simply a whispered fight between any of their small group of people who knew the secrets.

As they left the classroom, Hakuba's phone went off – yet again – and the blond was instantly engaged in rapt conversation with, of course, what sounded like one Kudo Shinichi.

With a pout and a huff, she went straight home. She had things to do. And people to summon.

---

Police officer Takagi Wataru frowned as he and the others listened back to one Kudo Shinichi's spoken evidence for hat felt like the hundredth time. Miwako Sato, who was beside him, had her arms crossed. Megure-keibu was rubbing at the side of his head, confusion written on his face. Only a few paces away, Shiratori was pinching his nose slightly with a vaguely stressed expression.

At the sound of the door opening – Chiba coming in with the coffee and snacks, Takagi found when he looked around – the tape was stopped. Some time around the point just after Kudo-kun had been explaining to Kuroba-kun how he didn't exactly remember what had happened at a certain point.

Absently, he reached out for a biscuit, still staring at the tape player even though there wasn't any sound coming out of it.

"You guys still going over that thing? How many times has it been already?"

Sato rubbed at her eyes.

"Too many, Chiba. What's more, we still haven't gotten nearly enough evidence from it! I would have thought that if it was his evidence, we would be able to find something, but-!"

"But. . . from what we hear here, Kudo-kun was just as confused as the rest of us when he gave this to us," Takagi finished off for her.

Megure-keibu nodded, latching onto the thought.

"The way he's been acting so far seems to suggest he's telling the truth about it, too, at least, he hasn't done anything since then that goes against what he said. His friends also are coming up with evidence all the time..."

"Evidence that while useful to say that Kudo-kun is innocent, still gets us no closer to the true perpetrator of the case," added Shiratori in a wry tone. "Not to mention that if it hadn't come from respected detectives – children or not – its source would have been highly questionable. At least one of them must have sneaked into the crime scene area or the evidence lab at some point to have those type of results. Not to mention the kind of technological and security level access to do anything with whatever they had."

There was a slightly embarrassed pause. High school children, meitantei or not – the oddity of Kuroba-kun not being an actual recognised tantei being passed over in this case – outdoing the police in their investigations so easily was a minor sore point. The fact that it was a tough case made it a little easier... but not by much. They, as the police, were supposed to be the professionals.

"Well," said Sato, breaking the uneasiness as though it wasn't there. "We should just be glad they are working on it – and that they're not acting the vigilantes and sharing with us. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have gotten that far yet. . ."

She trailed off, as though suddenly coming up with a thought.

"What is it, Sato-san?"

She shook her head, but something was obviously still troubling her.

"Nothing. It's just that, well... it almost seems as though they're simply working with more evidence than we are, when you put it that way. It's probably not true, but-"

"You mean they're withholding something from us?"

"I don't know. I don't think it's that kind of evidence – more like . . . put the tape back on will you, Takagi-kun?"

"Hm? Oh, sure."

He turned the tape back on, and it resumed from where it had left off. Nothing was different from any of the other times they had played it. Listening closer and paying more attention to how the two on the tape interacted and spoke, however, brought a whole new light to the case following from what Sato had said. By the time the tape had finished playing, the officers congregated in the room looked at each other, trading significant glances.

Takagi saw what she had meant. It certainly seemed as though the two knew something to do with the case that they didn't. Some sort of secret between them that those listening in weren't supposed to know.

But why would they do such a thing? Kudo-kun had always seemed to help out the police and trust them previous to this. So why start being losing faith in them now? Whatever the reason was, it shouldn't be so bad as to hide. . . unless it was truly serious.

Yet while the boy had practically kept himself under house arrest for nearly a week now, all of his friends had visited him nearly every day. Takagi himself had seen some of them coming in and out, and had recognised them as responsible people who wouldn't stoop to covering something up for a friend if they were involved in a crime.

So that only begged the question: what exactly was it that they could be hiding. . ?

---

"Kudo-kun, while I understand that you have to get to grips with yourself and get out of a house that, while large compared to most homes is to say the least, stifling you, I do not think that going straight back to the park, the scene of the crime, will help things any. In fact, I might even go as far as to say that it would be detrimental to your health and mental well-being. Not, may I add, one of your best ideas."

The voice on the phone groaned in frustration.

"_But what else can I do_?"

"Well for one thing, you can go someplace else, associate with other people outside of your immediate circle, and get reacquainted with the daylight world again. You holing yourself up doesn't help any of us. But please also understand that while your assistance on the case would be greatly appreciated, we require you there with all of your mental capacities intact."

"_Yeah. But how am I supposed to do that if I can't get within a hundred yards or so of where the case is? Mental capacities includes problem solving. But I_ know _that if I tried to get involved in anything else I'd botch it up right now. My mind can't keep away from. . . well._"

Hakuba Saguru sighed, and he leant against a school wall. Right now it was Ekoda's first break period, and he was taking the call away from the main crowds.

"You do know that you don't have to go back to school simply because you are capable of setting foot out of your front door, don't you?" The blond detective couldn't fully understand how the Detective of the East had grown so strangely . . . not incompetent, he wasn't that, but possibly more dependent, almost overnight. Then again, the accumulated stress of certain events piling themselves on top of him would probably do that to even such a strong-willed individual as Kudo Shinichi, he let himself admit. "Just do whatever it is that you would normally do at first. Go out and buy the paper. Do some shopping. You could even just visit Agasa-san and Haibara-san."

He hesitated, and yet again cast a detective's eye around the school grounds, including entrance area and any parts of the streets that he could see. Still no sign.

"_Oi, Hakuba. You still there?_"

He pinched his nose and sighed.

"Yes..."

"_Good. Thought I could still hear you_." Saguru suppressed a shiver. Simply knowing was enough most of the time. Having it rubbed in his face – albeit by a slip of the tongue – was not his idea of a good time. "_Then you're going to tell me what the matter is with _you_._"

"It's nothing. At least, nothing of great importance, I think. Koizumi-san hasn't come to school today."

". . . _And you're saying that this_ isn't _important to have mentioned before?_"

"She was perfectly fine the last time that I saw her – that is, as school finished yesterday afternoon at precisely three-forty-five pm. She seemed to be planning something. At least, that is what I believe... not least because that belief was supported this morning when our teacher announced that Koizumi-san' 'parents' had allowed her out of classes today, with an excuse that she often uses."

"_With no indication of the men in black?_"

"None whatsoever. Unless of course you count Koizumi-san herself while out of school uniform."

There was a short pause during which Saguru wasn't sure – since he himself had been perfectly serious – but he thought that the other detective could possibly be trying to hold back laughter at the very idea or image. Saguru was certain however, that if Koizumi-san had at any point wished to act in any kind of nefarious way, she would have been able to. It was the idea that she actually _would_ that went against his image of her. The girl seemed perfectly happy where she was, and quite possibly for the same reason that he was happy in Ekoda.

"..._I see. Any ideas as to where she might be?_"

Saguru shrugged.

"She might be at home, but other than that it truly isn't really my business. I haven't previously had any real reason to watch her activities outside of when she brings herself into my, ah, line of sight."

There was a moment's pause while Kudo digested this.

"_So what changed?_"

The blond froze, uncertain for a moment of how to answer.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said honestly. "But quite probably I would say that it has at least something to do with the current situation. As detectives, our first instinct is to focus on anything outside of the ordinary. The fact that this event coincides with your... problems recently, and the fact that Kuroba is currently staying with you to help you sort them out, are most probably linked."

"_Then what do we do?_"

Here, he smiled, albeit a somewhat fondly sardonic one.

"We wait, Kudo-kun. I have often found that Koizumi-san is one of the most surprising people I know, barring Kuroba-kun. All that we can do is wait, and see what it was that she was planning once she has already put her plan into action."

The bell rang, and he covered the phone while it did. Once the ringing had ceased in his own normal ears, he lifted the mobile back to his ear.

"The very least that I can say is that unlike Kuroba-kun and some others, her plans are generally outside of the ordinary. But I don't think that it should be too bad."

With that, he cut off, needing to go back to class, and hoping that his words had in fact been true. Because he felt that, for some reason unknown to him, her absence that day was markedly different from those of most previous.

---

In the end, Shinichi had more or less accepted that he had to get out of the place at some point – Hakuba was right about that, at least. He was going to go stir-crazy if he imprisoned himself like this for too much longer – but had been mortified when, upon trying to go out of his own door, he had almost found himself getting suntanned very quickly, very uncomfortably. He had barely gotten away with only a light rash in just about all areas of uncovered, unprotected skin thanks due only to his highly enhanced speed, made even faster by panic and momentary fear. As it was, he had had to down a whole carton to get the tell-tale rashes to go down far enough so as to not draw too much attention.

Kaito had not been pleased, but at the very least Shinichi had been spared a mother hen rant from the thief by a phone call that the magician had felt the need to take in private. Which didn't mean to say, however, that he was completely off the hook.

Since then, he had been on his own.

Strangely enough, he had almost forgotten how large and empty the Kudo house was when there was only one person inside it after less than a week. Of course, before now he had hardly ever been truly alone, and he wasn't now even. But a month or so ago he would have been living in the Mouri detective agency, the same place as Ran, albeit in the same room as her father. He had gotten slowly used to sleeping over at the hakase's every so often, if not for testing out new cures then to have a Shounen Tantei get together for whatever reason. All of those times when he had been places with his adopted new family and friends as Edogawa Conan... he had almost forgotten what it had been like _before_ Conan, living alone without his parents or anyone else around most of the time.

During the time after the Unobo case, he had been too busy dealing with what he had become, with how Ran would be seeing him now, with simply adjusting and trying to stay as human as possible to worry about having people surrounding him. In fact, he had usually been more worried about keeping people away from him than otherwise, until Kuroba had interfered. Then, people had been slowly reintroduced to his way of life, whether he had liked it or not.

The whole incident with Nakamori Aoko had simply reinforced this new life rule. What must have been two weeks or more spent in the same space as a select few people constantly he was if not definitely close friends with, then at the very least able to trust with his secrets by the end of it had unwittingly resulted in close bonds with the other six. . . seven, if you included Aoko, by the end of it all.

And then. . . _that_ had happened. And not long after _that_, they had split up, each going their own ways once more.

Now. . . he groaned. It had come to this, and he knew that he should have expected something of the sort sooner or later.

It was despicable. He was a detective, not an ordinary member of the general public to faint and scream and get localised selective amnesia over something like that. Ignoring the fact that the simple point of his presence should have deterred whatever crimes might have happened had not worked that one time, he simply should not have been able to contract any sort of amnesia! Not only had his genetics been changed by his state of vampiric nature, but he had an eidetic memory. It shouldn't be possible for him not to remember something. Shouldn't be.

But it evidently was, even if Haibara had examined him as thoroughly as she had been able to and found nothing wrong with him. It was, according to her and anyone else he cared to ask, a purely mental block. Possibly due to emotional stress or something similar.

Which made him want to scream in frustration or completely demolish something useless.

In his spot leaning against one of the library walls, he slid down the wall so that his forehead rested against his knees in an unhealthy mix of despair and dejection. His hands fisted in useless pent up anger at himself.

If it wasn't for him, for him and his weakness, then the case would likely be closed by now. But because he was weak, it was still ongoing, and the murderer was still wandering around freely.

To his sensitive hearing, the opening and closing of his own front door was almost painfully obvious. Kuroba wasn't even trying to be quiet. He didn't move.

When two new yet familiar voices started to talk in his hearing range, their scents new yet familiar also, he could almost bring himself to go and see who it was.

Footsteps rang through the house, bringing with them a strange sort of déjà vu. Coming nearer, coming clearer. He could almost hear what they were saying, now, but couldn't bring himself to listen. Their scents drove him to distraction – how could he recognise them, when he had no name to voice or scent? – but not far enough to look up until their footsteps seemed to be coming his way, straight towards the library.

The door opened and first came Kaito, looking altogether rather unnerved about something, and definitely at a loss. Which was not like Kuroba Kaito. The Kuroba Kaito that he usually knew had a Poker Face so good that he could sometimes fool even a vampire's senses. But it was definitely him.

Then. . . came her.

Shinichi was on his feet in an instant, a move that while it caused Kaito to move back a pace at the unexpected and fluid movement, he did not regret.

"You." His voice was strangely flat, he realised detachedly. "What. . . what are you doing in my home?"

The woman did not move her gaze from him even once.

"I could just as well ask you what you were expecting to achieve down there, Mr. Detective," she said.

Yet that one sentence was all it took to have Shinichi back on the floor with his back to the wall.

It was. There was no maybe about it. It was her. The one who had . . . _sired_ him.

Belatedly, he attempted to control his hyperventilating breathing.

---

Kaito looked between the two, first at Shinichi – uncharacteristically sprawled on the floor, his face in an unusual expression of anger, fear, distaste and, strangely enough, shame. Then, there was the woman all of this was aimed at . . . an ordinary enough looking brunette wearing a deep green t-shirt and a light blue long skirt that reached to her ankles. Nothing too special, really, but Kaito had long ago learned that some of the weirdest people out there hid under masks that shouted out that they were 'nothing too special'. He should know. He was one of them.

Almost without his consent, one of his hands had started to sneak behind his back to where his card gun was continually kept hidden. He hadn't even managed to reach it yet though, when a hand clamped softly down on his shoulder.

"S'alright, kid. Kudo's gonna be fine."

Even though he wasn't facing the person the voice belonged to, Kaito's Poker Face slid expertly into place.

". . . fine. He doesn't look fine right now to me."

The owner of the voice snorted.

"Well of course not. I said he's going to be fine. Not to expect miracles." He twisted his grip on Kaito's arm so that the magician-turned-thief was forced to face him instead of the scene unfolding in front of them. "C'mon, kid. Let's leave 'em to it for a bit."

"Alone?"

"Er, now," the American said somewhat hastily. Shinichi had just started to stand up again, and the look in his eyes wasn't one Kaito wanted to stay in the same room with, even if the guy was his friend and possibly in danger.

Back in the main living room, Kaito let out a long breath as soon as the guy let go of his shoulder in favour of falling back onto Shinichi's couch with his legs outstretched and arms over his head as if he lived there. At least the man had taken his shoes off when he'd first come indoors, though, even if he was still wearing his leather jacket over the worn jeans and white t-shirt ensemble. A bit of black sticking out of his jacket pocket hinted at sunglasses, and black leather gloves poking out from jeans pockets. Kaito put these facts together with the cheap baseball cap he'd seen the man toss onto the coat rack earlier, and came to the inevitable conclusion.

"You and that oba-san back there – you're like Kudo, aren't you?" At the man's pointed look and raised eyebrow, he continued. "Vampires, I mean."

The American vampire cracked one of his eyes closed and half smiled.

"Got it in one, squirt."

Kaito stared, uncertain as to whether he should be amused, annoyed or just downright indignant over the remark, but decided to go with a mixture of all three when the guy started to smirk at his lack of reaction. If Kudo was anything to go by, then this guy could almost definitely tell his emotions using more of his senses than Kaito could counter, thus making Poker Face irrelevant. Throwing away the for-now useless mask, he scowled.

The American laughed shortly, but in a mercurial way not unlike Kaito himself, turned serious after only a moment.

"You know... you really don't have to worry that much, kid. Neither of us are about to eat you, if that's what you were thinking. Heh. . . we were on the other side of Japan a couple of days ago until we heard people were asking after us. When we found out it was about Kudo, we came here like speeding bullets."

"Not speeding silver bullets?"

The guy blinked and leaned forward.

"No... that would hurt. Not much, but it would." He laughed. "Silver's reserved for werewolves. Not vampires."

"Right. So why are you telling _me_ this?"

The vampire looked up at him sharply, then shook his head.

"Look, Mina – that's the one that's having the, ah, conversation with Kudo right now – is the one who sired the guy. You seem to be one of his best friends – despite what you look like, you aren't related, but you are sharing the house. Which also means you're damn close, squirt. Vampires need to trust a person to let them in when they're most vulnerable," he added, giving Kaito a pointed look that made him squirm slightly and almost forget that he'd been called 'squirt' again. "Plus," he said, serious yet again, "you're a donor."

Kaito stilled, not even going so far as tensing, but having the fight-or-flight instinct take a hold of him all the same. Neither he nor Kudo had, so far as he knew, told anyone else about what he had done. _No one_. No one else had needed to know, or been thought to be able to handle it very well. It hadn't even happened since that morning at the police station, even. Yet this person, this absolute stranger, knew? Just like that?

"How. . . ?"

The vampire sighed and placed a frustrated hand at his forehead.

"You haven't been around vampires much, have you, kid? I suppose not; we did leave kinda early. . . Look. It goes like this. Vampires are predators, right? Please tell me you got that much, at least."

Kaito nodded warily and finally decided to sit down, figuring that his lesson on the vampire race might possibly leave him not wanting to be standing at some point. Possibly in the near future.

The guy sighed in relief, and continued on.

"Well, we are. All started a few thousand years back, though – not that I'd know exactly what happened, I ain't _that_ old – with youkai and all of those types. One of them decided they liked a human, but the hanyou they ended up with came out wrong compared to the others that kept cropping up all over the place... I think you can tell how that worked out."

And Kaito could. He had been told his tales when he was little, and Japanese fairy tales weren't the watered down ones that Europeans and Americans got. With a slight shiver at realising that some of them must have been based on true stories, he thought of the understanding that the couple must have come to that the child was going to be a predator. . . but their later shock and surprise at how that nature had revealed itself. The beginnings of mobs, maybe.

But why not? Vampires were and had always been beings that drank blood, which had usually been synonymous with a person's life, and if not that then at least meant that the vampire had control over that person. . .

"Because of that," the vampire in front of him continued, "Most of the time, we've been able to survive pretty darn' well. For one thing, we don't literally die when we change... might seem like we do sometimes, but we don't. 'Cause of that, there's also the matter of me hearing the main line doesn't always get new members through enforced membership, either – I've heard there's kids in that clan that choose when they age to and whatnot."

Kaito tilted his head.

"Why tell me this? I'm not about to volunteer if that's what you're after." His voice held a muted amount of monotone to it, ready to dig his heels in and not let go to his humanity even if it cost him dearly.

"I wasn't asking you to," the man bit back. "I was tellin' you because it looks like you're the closest friend that brat in there's got, and he needs someone to tell him he ain't a monster and he ain't gonna just drag everyone down! Right now, the state he's in, I somehow doubt Mina's going to be able to get through to him straight away. You, he might listen to."

Kaito's eyes widened. Ever since he had first found out about his father and become the Kaitou Kid, he had mostly kept himself as much to himself as possible, making sure that his chosen path wouldn't hurt any of his precious people, or even anyone unlucky enough to cross paths with him for even an instant. Now, this man was saying that, basically, he was the last stop between Kudo Shinichi and the detective's breaking point.

Before, he had offered to be a fallback guy, someone else to go to. This, however, was not what he'd been expecting.

The American vampire sighed, as if trying to find the right words, and a hand trawled through untidy hair.

"There's. . . a reason. I'm guessing you don't know yet, but there is." He looked Kaito in the eyes, pale blue to blue-violet. "Since vampires are basically descended from youkai, we're. . . kind of like pack animals. We don't, uh, respond well when you seclude us from everyone else. Things usually get messy if you do."

Which sort of fitted with what Kaito had seen of Kudo so far from up close and personal ever since they'd first agreed to be business partners and then friends. He'd always used to be protective of his friends, but now...

"Family with us isn't about blood. At least," he said, starting to look slightly uncomfortable about the subject, "not the same as with most families – you know, genes and all that. It's more like... clans. If we go with Kudo, then there's him, then there's Mina, who sired him – that makes her higher up in the hierarchy than him – then there's also me, Fritz – also sired by Mina, so I suppose that makes me Kudo's half brother, or something. . ."

Kaito snorted at the idea. He didn't know how well Kudo would like that.

"Then there's you, so far."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean, me? And 'so far'?"

The guy – Fritz – sighed again.

"Look, kid. You don't have to like this. I told you vampires came from youkai predators in the first place. Well, they had to have food-"

"So now you're calling me a food source?"

"Ye- no! What I was _trying_ to say was that at first, that's how it had to be. It was an instinct thing, one of those things you aren't always able to control. Kudo bit you – could've even been a cut or anything – what with him being him from what I've seen of him, the fact that you trusted him whatsoever made you a donor." Unthinking, Kaito's right hand went to his left sleeve. Fritz nodded, serious. "When it was first being tested out and developed, I'm guessing it was outta necessity. Nowadays, it's less like that and more to do with clan bonds and ties."

Fritz stopped and allowed Kaito time to think, which he desperately needed. That, and time to stop himself from hyperventilating at the thought of having been like this for so long without having even realised. Nothing had seemed different.

Except for maybe Koizumi watching him even more beadily than usual. That, and feeling a strange twinge a mere half day before Kudo's incident. Koizumi's interest alone – ignoring the fact that the woman Mina had referenced the class witch while asking to come in – had weight enough, now that he knew what he was weighing it against.

"So," he said finally. "What's this supposed to do to a person, then?" The American let out a long sigh of relief. "I assume that it doesn't cause too much of a change, right?"

Fritz nodded. "Right. The only changes are that you're now the proud bearer of an inbuilt Kudo-in-life-threatening-crisis detector. Means you react whenever Mr. Detective over there's in deep doo-doo. Should hardly ever happen."

A hand still over the place where the scar was, Kaito looked over in the direction of where Fritz had glanced at.

"It already has."

For the first time since he had opened the door to them, the American vampire's face darkened noticeably as he gripped the arm of the couch.

"I noticed," was all he said in a dangerous voice, before going back to the mostly carefree personality that Kaito was more familiar with. "A good thing for you, Kudo should have the same thing but backwards. Same thing with anyone who becomes a donor, really. Doesn't matter who or how long, either. Not to mention it kind of goes without saying he sorta adopts _your_ nakama." He laughed, like he was thinking of or remembering something good. "Or that might just be my experiences so far."

Kaito nodded absently, only half taking in what was said and storing it for later usage. The better part of his mind was occupied with what the guy had told him about Kudo and life-threatening situations. But if it were true – and at this stage, he wasn't saying that it wasn't – then it had already happened for him. . . yet so far as he knew, Kudo had been perfectly safe and at school the same as him when his scar, or mark, had ached. So it couldn't have been the thing that had caused Kudo to get like this. . .

But if it wasn't that, then what _had_ it been?

---

AN: I really, really need to know this – how many people hate me for putting Original Characters in semi-lead but not instrumental roles? How many people simply like them, and want to know more about them? Just so's you all know, Mina and Fritz are the same people who appeared briefly in chapter two (and then promptly left). They are nominally important, but really just so that we – and in doing so, the characters in the story – know more about vampires in this universe I've created, and the way they work. Not to mention, the reason why Kaito is NOT a vampire. Nor is he changing into one. I did tell some of you that something was happening, though – this is what it was.

The main cast, however, WILL remain predominantly canon characters just like last time. Mina, Fritz, Unobo and the guy who died in one sentence are the only ones that I created. Mine, I tell you. Mine.


	5. All Around Me Are Familiar Faces

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Four – Familiar Faces

_All around me are familiar faces/ Worn out places, worn out faces ... Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow/ No tomorrow, no tomorrow.._

– Mad World, by Tears for Fears

---

Looking straight at her from his position on the floor, it was like looking the widening maw of the rabbit hole in the eye yet again.

It helped that in his older form, she seemed a lot less tall than the first time that they had met. He felt – he was – stronger than before. It took him a short while to remember that he was still on the floor, in such a position in front of such a person. A person who was really no better than many of the murderers that he had encountered. She was the one who had allowed a murder to take place which had not had to happen, not if she knew the type of person the killer was. She was the one who had changed him, made him different in nearly all ways to how he had been before. . . had killed him to his old life.

Blind to the presences of the other person who had been there and the thief who had become one of his closest friends in the past few weeks because of everything she had caused, he started to rise, eyes reflecting to the rest of the world his anger, his rage, his frustration and his pain. All of his deeply buried instincts fighting their way to the fore, heightening his very senses and the responses to what he felt.

Distant to the knowledge, he felt more than saw or heard the thief and the other leave the room, as certain of the fact that the magician could take care of himself as he was of one truth. If he couldn't, then he would only have another reason to tear into the two until they regretted ever hearing his name.

"You. . ."

His words trailed off in the midst of the heavy rush of confused emotions in his head, until that very tangle told him what it was that he had been about to say. He pointed his finger at his target, weapons of words ready in the same way that they always were when revealing a person's guilt.

"You left," he said. Coolly and collected, as if he were calmly telling someone the method with which they had perpetrated the crime. In some corner of his mind, it disturbed him. He shouldn't be sounding this calm.

"You left," he continued, "without doing anything. Once that bastard was caught, you could have done something." His hand came back down to his side and formed a fist there. "You just _left_. You were the one who knew what was going on, how to make sure that he couldn't break free at an point, but you didn't think, did you? You just _left!_"

He had only been this emotionally distraught perhaps twice before in his life. Once when he had first turned into Conan, in that first moment of relative peace when he had been able to escape to his old home and simply let loose his panic, fear, shame at having been caught out like that, anger at the people who had done it to him, forcing him into a different form and thus unable to be with Ran and tell her what she meant to him.

The second time had been that night, what felt so long ago yet actually wasn't, that had been at the same time easier and worse than before. Easier, because he was back in his own body, and that half of his feelings were occupied with the inbuilt relief of being back to normal. Worse, in that he wasn't normal, and never would be again. That he was now living much more of a lie in front of Ran than he ever had as Conan. That he could be there, with her, when in fact he was in all probability going to still be there long, long after she was gone.

The woman across from him sighed and hung her head slightly before looking up to meet his eyes.

"We didn't have very much choice. We had to leave. You were there –"

"I knew nothing! I was scared – did you not think that such a thing would happen when you just _leave somebody_ like that? I didn't know what to do – you just _left_ me there!"

And of a sudden, the room was very quiet. Except for the ever-present sounds of the house and its environs, and exaggerated sound Shinichi's breathing made to sensitive vampire ears. He looked away, focusing his vision instead on the Agatha Christie section of the Kudo library. Blood was rushing to his head from sheer embarrassment and shame at having finally said it, which while it allowed his mind to function better than it had otherwise, also made him feel amenable to the idea of having the earth swallow him up.

For a while, neither spoke, even though he was sure that she was watching him.

"I am sorry."

His head snapped back to face her.

"Sorry? Do you really, honestly think that saying you're sorry is enough by now? I've had this long without you. I think that I can deal quite nicely on my own by now, thank you."

"I beg your pardon? You call this being able to deal with everything that comes your way acting like I see you now? You call this behaviour what is necessary to protect people?"

"You mean you changed me for more than the capture of one man? I'm _honoured_."

The woman shook her head, evidently unimpressed.

"You aren't acting with your mind, _detective_."

"Instead of thinking with my instincts, you mean? The ones _you_ gave me?"

"Those instincts of yours are something that every single vampire has. There were no ways of giving you the strength, speed and overall heightened senses of our race without the instincts to go with them, so that you didn't accidentally kill yourself or someone else running on the assumption that everything was the same for you as it had always been! It would have been idiocy, boy," she finished softly.

"I still had to figure everything out for myself. I still had to learn the hard way, far too many times." He returned her stare with his own now even more piercing blue to her vampire-strange hazel. "So where were you during that time?"

"Still in Japan," she said shortly. "There were people we needed to talk to, things that needed to be done. Not to mention," she added pointedly, "the very reason that we were still here when one of your own friends thought that you needed help was that we hadn't dared leave the country, knowing that such an emergency might occur."

Shinichi snorted, showing what he thought of those kinds of sentiments, but if he was truthful with himself, it only made sense. Not to mention that it meant that they had not, in fact, truly left.

"Why then, did you leave in the first place?" He asked quietly, knowing full well that she could hear him clearly enough. "What was so important?"

The woman let out a nearly inaudible sigh, and closed her eyes.

"You were."

She looked away, trailing a hand through brown-red hair.

"Don't you understand? Unless we left, you would never have learned to understand what your own limits are. You would never have realised for yourself what your own priorities in using your power are. You would have tried to copy someone else. . . whether you knew it or even wanted it or not. We would not have you idolising us for being the only ones you could associate with, or hating our existence because we made you who you are. We would not have you become so."

Shinichi laughed, but it was hollow.

"But what if you had made the wrong choice, in turning me?"

She looked at him with a calculating gaze, and for the first time since seeing her in his home, he felt as if he were being weighed and measured to an invisible weight. _So this is what it feels like..._ he thought with a slight shiver running down his spine. _That look that we. . . Hattori, Hakuba, Kaito and I. . . the look we give, judging a person to see whether or not he is guilty of a crime_.

Her gaze softened then, her face smoothing into a sad smile.

"I don't think that I did," she said.

"How?"

"Because," she continued, walking closer to him for the first time and laying a hand on his shoulder, "there is too much guilt in you. A bad person does not feel guilt for any of the wrong deeds that they may or may not have done. . . do they, detective?"

At first he had tensed, then his eyes had widened. Once he realised what she meant, however, he smiled. It was crooked and not completely trusting still, but it was there nonetheless. In response, her own smile brightened, and she let go of his shoulder, allowing him to relax slightly again.

"Now," she began, in a more business like manner, "I think that we need to get out there, don't you? It seems that Fritz has somehow disappeared with young Kaito-kun, and no doubt both would be quite pleased to see you..."

Even without all of the pain and anger that he had been carrying when she had first appeared, Shinichi could not help but twitch. There was simply something about her – be it the fact that she was the one who had turned him, or the fact that she was now heading off into his house in search of that other guy as if she owned the place – that irritated him to no end.

----

A few minutes later – thank the kami for small mercies – the woman he now knew to be Mina came through into the room Kaito and Fritz had taken over, a thoroughly ticked off Shinichi following only a few paces after. Almost not realising that he was doing so, he let out a sigh of relief that no one had been hurt, even at all. Fritz grinned as soon as he saw them, waving one hand over in their direction. Kaito smirked as he saw the American's eyes light up slightly at the sight of one of the two, but immediately afterwards turned half serious, half teasing.

"What – so no one's dead yet? I thought for sure I'd have to resurrect at least one of you."

Kaito rolled his eyes, noting as he did so the sharp look that Shinichi shot the man's way. The detective did not, however, rise to the bait, instead walking over to the couch where he was sitting and falling down onto it with a hard thump, arms crossed and glaring at the world in general and the other two vampires in particular.

"Not really," Shinichi said shortly, elbows on his knees and hands on fists. The word almost went unsaid, but was clearly enough heard.

Kaito inwardly winced at the expressionless way the detective said the words. He had received his own brushes with the human – and thus milder and less disastrous, according to Fritz – version of whatever Shinichi had gone through. One notable instance would be that time only little more than a fortnight ago when Aoko had been in so much danger.

Because of that, if anything, he could understand at least a little. He only hoped that, given what he had found out so far, Kudo would never be driven to the point where he had to use those instincts of his, Black Organisation or no.

Belatedly, he realised that a tense and uneasy silence had fallen across the room while he had been lost in his thoughts.

Well. That won't do.

"So!" he said, breaking the silence with the well-practiced ease of a class clown and top prankster. "Anyone gonna tell me what we're gonna do now? I mean, obaa-chan and ojii-chan're here, so we've got two more minds to think things over, at least." Mina seemed only to sigh at the comment – unlike one crazy lady he'd briefly met once when he was seven – but he did have to fend of an irritated kick from Fritz, to which he stuck his tongue out, annoying the other guy more on purpose.

"I suppose," said Mina slowly, "that we should start at the beginning."

Fritz rolled his eyes and tapped a tune on his leg, stopped only by Kaito's snigger and Mina's glare.

"Which beginning should I start at?" Shinichi asked, a bit of his old self reappearing at the prospect of detective work. "As I think you'll have noticed, I've had quite a few."

Fritz snapped his fingers loudly, making them start slightly. Everyone turned to face him expectantly.

"Got it! How about you tell all about what's happened that we," he made a motion between himself and Mina, "don't know about? Say, the end of that case right until now? How about it?"

Kaito spared a concerned look in Shinichi's direction, unsure as to whether he'd comply with the guy's request. He knew for almost a fact that if it had been Mina who'd asked, they would have gotten a flat out 'no'. As it was. . .

Shinichi exhaled sharply, turning his head away from them as he did so. After only a moment, he turned back, straightening himself as he did so.

"Fine."

---

The telling of the past one and a half months took the four of them well into the morning, and taking into account all that had happened in that time it was no wonder, especially considering that Kaito would fill in events from time to time. Sometimes with things Shinichi even until that moment had not realised were missing from his account. Others, he found himself cringing when they were brought up, either through sheer embarrassment or abject annoyance. . . like, for instance, when the thief brought up the matter of 'Katie', not to mention just how much he had _wished_ he could wring the thief's neck after the guy started to explain – with intricate details – exactly how that heist had been planned and executed.

It hadn't helped that Mina and Fritz had taken advantage of the situation, laughing both with and at them, being angry, being sad. Talking and asking questions, but also answering those given them and being quiet when necessary.

None of these things helped – not really. He had wanted to hate them. At the very least, her.

It hadn't helped that he had felt a shameful sort of relief that there was someone older than him to ask for his story, to tell someone – anyone – about it all. Nearly all. A relief that there was someone to tell him what some of his less obvious limitations and boundaries were.

A relief that, when they finally got around to talking about it, Kaito himself explained the concept of what they called a 'donor', shooting glances every so often at Fritz, and said in slightly stilted words that even so had more than enough confidence that he was perfectly fine with the idea.

Shinichi was just glad that the magician's mother didn't know. The thought that he could do all that had never occurred to him, and if he was honest, the idea terrified him.

At the point shortly after that revelation when they had decided on a much needed coffee break, his hands hadn't been able to stop shaking, and it hadn't been from the caffeine.

"So. . . that's all you can remember from that time?" Fritz was asking.

Shinichi nodded mutely, staring into his half-empty mug of black coffee. It was his third cup, and the first rays of daylight were starting to stream into the hall. The reddish lights of first dawn that tinted the normally light brown carpet clashed strangely with the monotone gray-blue of a house with only nominal lighting. So far, it was nothing to truly worry about, weak as it was. It would still be a while before the sunlight was bright enough or strong enough to cause any harm.

Fritz frowned, a mildly concerned expression making itself known. Mina had a look of calm attention on her face, more solemn than even most of the time before. Kaito didn't seem to be looking at anyone or anything in particular, but his Poker Face was definitely in place, making it that much harder to discern what was going on in the magician's mind.

He sighed heavily, and quickly finished the rest of his coffee.

"It. . . doesn't make sense. It just doesn't. I'm. . ." his voice broke slightly, making Kaito look away. "I'm a _detective_. I always remember _everything_." His fists clenched, and the mug that he had still been holding onto made strained cracking noises, startling the others. "So why can't I remember _this_? _Why_?"

He dropped the now useless mug, letting it fall to the floor and roll slightly away. His free hands made their way up to his face, covering his eyes and holding his hair back tightly against his head.

"I'm supposed to have become a _better_ detective after becoming like this. Not some kind of... of headcase, causing problems all the time."

He was suddenly startled out of his reverie by a not-so-light punch aimed at his side. More than slightly shocked, he turned to face the thief, whose blank mask had been traded in for a look of sheer anger and frustration.

"You idiot." His words, a stark contrast to his expression, were cool and calm. "Just because you're like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, doesn't mean you are Holmes. Just because you're better than any human detective, doesn't mean that you're suddenly some sort of perfect being of deduction. Stop fooling yourself, Kudo. You aren't _any_ of those things. You're still the overprotective Kudo I respected before we really knew each other. And whether you like it or not, I still respect you now."

Fritz's arms crossed, and the American vampire snorted.

"Got to say I'm with your friend on this one. You know," he said gently, leaning forward slightly in his seat, "we didn't choose you because we thought you'd be able to carry everything on your shoulders. Told it to him and I'll tell it to you. We aren't supposed to go do stuff, whatever, on our own. Me? I don't care whether you say even a word about it to me personally. Doesn't really matter one way or another who you choose to trust with it, so long as you do share it around. We may be superhuman, but super_heroes_, we ain't," he added with an ironic smirk.

Audible even at a human level, the local winged chorus chose that time to start to sing. Chancing another look at the others, he started to see Mina with her eyes closed, simply listening. With a long, slow breath that he let out calmly, he stood. Headed back towards the hall.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he vowed. "The case, and why I lost my memory of that time." _Somehow_. He didn't know how, exactly, but he would. If it meant getting that killer behind bars, he would.

"And you'll let us help?" Came the call of accented Japanese. He paused, not realising that he was half in the steadily strengthening sunlight as he did so, mind automatically sending those familiar subconscious signals to make him semi-immune once more.

"I don't see how I can stop you," he said at last. "Not to mention, I probably shouldn't even try."

What went unsaid was that he didn't, truly and honestly, think that he would want to. As unwilling as he was to listen to Mina, she – and the others, even or possibly especially Kaito – had a point.

He was going to solve this case, somehow or other. But before anything else, he was going to deal with his own more problematic troubles. As soon as it would be possible to do so, he was going to get used to going out again. Once he was fine with that, he would be able to go onto other things.

Such as going back to the scene of the crime.

---

It was a surprise, to say the very least, when Ran found Shinichi waiting for her at home the next day as she came back from getting the newspaper, sitting on her sofa and gazing out the wide window with an only half-aware look on his face. Moments later, he turned to face her, greeting her with a sight that made her spirits rise properly for the first time in too many days.

Before she had even realised that she had moved, she was sitting next to him, grinning tearfully into his shoulder, feeling the start he gave at her touch, her arms around him. Slowly, he returned her embrace, but she could tell that he was still treating her as if she were some kind of fragile thing not to be handled harshly, or else it might break. She wasn't, she had tried and tried to tell him that she wasn't, but that wasn't what mattered right then. Shinichi was back.

Not the lethargic, moody, paranoid and apathetic person who had been living in her friend's place for the last few days or so, but the Shinichi she knew and loved. The one who had that spark in his eye at the thought of a tough case, yet hated the fact that there needed to be a case at all in the first place even so. The one who would do anything to make sure that the case got solved, but never as far as going down to the level of those he tried to catch. _Her_ Shinichi. The one who calmed her down and reassured her, who told her that everything was going to be all right and that she didn't need to be scared.

She had missed that Shinichi. But now. . . now he was back.

"Ran. . ."

"I missed you, you idiot," she sobbed, making his shoulder wet. "You weren't you. You were there, but you weren't. It wasn't fair... I was scared, too! I wanted to be around you and not feel like I wasn't being recognised. . ."

Awkwardly, Shinichi started to rub circles on her back, making shushing noises. Ran hiccupped slightly, knowing that for the first time since all of this had started, he might actually be drawing her closer instead of pushing her away.

"I'm sorry. . ." he said quietly. "I. . . I don't want you to be scared like that again. . . I'm sorry."

He heaved out a shuddering sigh and separated himself from her. With her face parted from its instant towel of Shinichi's t-shirt, Ran was reminded of how she must look, but he didn't seem to see how puffy-eyed and red her face was. Instead, he simply looked her in the eye, the same way he had often before Tropical Land, and the same way as Conan had done a few spare times after.

"It's going to be all right, Ran. It will be. We'll make it be all right. . . me and the others. I'm going to find out who did that, and why I've been affected like that, and then they'll be caught. . ." he trailed off, a serious expression hardening his features for a slim few moments. "And then after that-" his face suddenly lit up in realisation. "I still owe you one day out," he said at last.

At first, Ran didn't understand. A day out? They had had plenty. Though it had recently only been when she had been taking Conan and the rest of the Shounen Tantei out for a trip, and they usually ended up taking a turn for either the worse or the strange. The time they had spent since his return to his normal size had mostly been taken up by schoolwork, cases and emergency situations. Not the best time to go out, during one of those.

She looked back at him, only to find that he had been staring at the place where they had eaten together as a family so many times – her father, her, and Conan. He shook his head, and turned his head so that he was looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"I owe you," were the words that were finally spoken. "So much. I left you that day at Tropical Land, somewhere you couldn't have followed. . . left you in the dark and unaware of the truth for so long, I... I made you cry, Ran, because of me. I don't want that to happen again, either. I've done so much to hurt you, even. . . especially because I'm a detective. The least I could do would be to give you one day out after all this is over and done where we wouldn't have to worry."

Ran laughed, albeit slightly shakily.

"What if a case comes up? You'd have to deal with it. You wouldn't be Shinichi if you didn't," she teased.

He shrugged, smiling with a little less melancholy than usual.

"Then I'd just have to solve it really quickly, wouldn't I?" he said wryly, tapping his nose. Ran didn't mind. She would be just as – if not more – happy to see him in his element, knowing that he was wearing that face that he always wore when he was solving crimes. Just like her friend Kazuha, it was simply one of the things that made her love the mystery-crazy boy.

Just as she was thinking that, however, the look on his face turned serious again. Not the serious of depression and guilt again, or the serious of when he was trying to tell her something important, but just Shinichi-serious.

"Ran. . . speaking of solving things quickly, I . . . I admit to needing a favour from you."

She could have tilted her eyebrow just so, said 'you've asked a lot of favours from me, even when I didn't know I was giving them to you', but she didn't. Instead, she motioned for him to continue, curious as to what he wanted or needed, needing to know how she could help him.

"I. . ." he sighed, looked down for a moment before continuing. "I need to have some sort of access to the – to _my_ case files. I need to be doing something. I've got more reason than any to see the one who really did it behind bars."

Ran stared at the look he was giving her, the one he got when he was truly serious about solving the crime – when it was personal. She considered herself a fool for not having seen it in Conan so many times. She shouldn't have been able to delude herself. The look was as distinctive as his eyes, which, while he had hidden them, had still always seen so much.

"I. . . I understand if it's too much to ask. You're not supposed to – not to mention your father probably hates my guts, right now."

She silenced him with a shake of a her head.

"I'll tell dad. I'm sure he won't mind. . . too much, anyway. He doesn't really hate you; he's more embarrassed about the whole thing than anything." She snorted lightly before laughing at the way his eyes widened in disbelief. "Well how would _you_ feel if you suddenly found out that someone else had been using you all the time, good consequences or not?" At his look of guilt, she added, "Not to mention the fact that he's still got his reputation to live up to, even though he doesn't sleep for his deductions any more. Except now he's got to _work_ for it."

Shinichi winced and almost laughed at the same time.

"You know, I always did think that he could be good if he actually tried."

Ran smiled in response; both at the praise to her father and at the normal comment.

"I know. I always told you he could be."

Shinichi hummed and went back to looking out of the office window.

"So... you really think he will?"

She scowled at his stubborn refusal to let go and just believe in people for once. But then again, she supposed that it was sort of a hard thing to do after all he had been through.

"Yes, you idiot," she said in the end. "I do think that he will. Was there anything else?"

Shinichi hesitated for a moment, but then nodded resolutely.

"Yeah. I was thinking of going over to the station. You know – ask around. See if they'd got anything from the evidence that we haven't been able to find." He stretched, looking for all the world like a big housecat, and Ran had to fight herself not to laugh. "Not to mention I need to get used to being out again. Station's one of a few short places where stuff happened, and it's the easiest – there're people I know there, it's familiar. . . thought I'd try there first."

Oh. But at least he did seem to be getting better, right? He looked almost back to normal.

"Do you think I could come with you?"

He looked down at her from where he stood with wide eyes, she still seated on the sofa with her hands gripping her knees and head facing down when she saw that he was watching her. She didn't want to see him say no. Not again.

A shadow fell across her face and she started to find that it was his, looked up to find him leaning down towards her with a grin on his face.

"Don't see why not," was all that he said.

Ran smiled brightly, shooting up at him with a hug aimed at his midriff, knocking the air out of him if the sound he made was anything to go by, and then darting off to get her shoes back on – coat still on from having just got back in when she had found him.

---

The walk over to the station was uneventful. . . only if you had some way of ignoring the looks that came to rest on them that could be placed anywhere between sympathetic and compassionate to downright betrayed and fearful.

The comments were worse. Ran's hand clamped on his arm was often the only thing keeping him from running straight back home and forgetting about the whole idea of going straight there to ask in person. He could look away from the stares, but with his hearing, the talk was inescapable. No matter where he went, where he looked, what he did, he could still hear someone saying something the moment they saw him. It was even worse when they went past people not too far away; that was when he could hear their hearts beat faster, their breath freeze on sight, eyes widen, scent get touched by fear. . .

He faltered at the door, memories of being gently yet securely led inside assaulting him. He had gone back to his mostly numb state not too long after fully understanding his situation, making it all the easier for those men on the graveyard shift to find him and bring him in. He touched his face. Even though he had been withdrawn, he could still remember the feel of tear tracks on his face.

A soft squeeze on his arm brought him back fully to the present and the not entirely unwelcome sight of Ran's concerned face. He smiled at her in a way that he hoped was more reassuring than it felt.

Evidently it wasn't good enough, as Ran scowled a little and slid her hand down from his arm to his hand, linking the two together. They both blushed a light shade of pink, remembering how many times she must have held his hand just like this when he had still been Conan, and never thought any differently about it. When she hadn't known, it had been different. To her, he had been a little boy, no more than a little brother to look after and scold when he did something dangerous, look after and coddle. Now. . . both grown, his hand didn't fit so neatly into hers any more. He didn't have to reach up, and nor did she have to reach down. Instead, her hand fit snugly into his, and neither looked up at the other. Yet he still was the one being protected, if not from the big bad world that a seven year old still didn't fully comprehend, then from the wide world of simple humanity, where he fitted in as easily as he had done as Conan. . . like a wolf in sheep's clothing, a spy among loyal soldiers, a thief among detectives. Someone who had something to hide in a world of curious people,

"You ready? I won't make you go in if you don't want to any more, you know."

He shook his head. A grim smirk appeared on his face.

"I don't have to be ready," he said. "I've thought about this – no matter what I do next, I have to be moving forward. Uncovering the one truth that has to be at the bottom of this case; no matter what lies there, I'm sure that I'll be able to deal with it. I'm going to have to. It isn't just me who's affected by all of this. . . it's everyone I know, and everyone the killer could possibly come into contact with while he's loose. It's more than just me. So no matter what, I have to solve this. My memories and my pride can suffer that much. I've solved cases before with less. No way I'm going to pretend as though I can't do as well with this one just because things have gone all kinds of bad so far; I owe it to myself, at least."

When he looked back at her, he was surprised to find Ran's face lit up, smiling tearfully.

"That. . . that's the kind of face that I love to see on you," was all that she said. "I've missed it for so, so long..."

------

AN: Was originally going to include another (big, plot wise) event, but that would've meant adding a few thousand odd words to it, making it nearly two chapters' lengths. So I decided to end it here. Yay for more Shinichi/Ran fluffiness!

. . . of course, there is the small fact that TVD 2 is undoubtedly going to get darker as the plot progresses, and is also going to be quite a bit longer, I think, than the first story. Just so's you know.


	6. Nothing I Won't Give

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Five – Nothing I Won't Give

_I promise you I'd go everywhere I've been/ To find a way to make atonement for my sin/ And see... see your smiling face again. . ._

– Vic Mignogna

-----

When he later got back home, having dropped Ran off back at her place, it was with a slam of the door and thunderous footsteps all the way to where he could tell the other three were packing up Kaito's things, since the thief was going to be returning to Ekoda as soon as they were done. He stopped in the doorway, attempted to calm himself with a couple of breaths that ended up being about as useful as they sounded, to a vampire. They didn't help in calming him down, at any rate.

"Damn it!"

A fist flew with unthinking accuracy to the frame of the door. . . an act which he immediately regretted when a throbbing pain blossomed there and didn't go away, a sure sign of a wood-related injury. Grimacing and now holding his hurt hand gingerly, he cursed some more.

"Ne, Tantei-kun – you all right?"

"What do you think?" came the snarled response.

"Me? I think it's probably just as well you hit the frame."

Shinichi was sure that if the others had not had their share of people looking at them in such a way for real, they would have called his expression murderous. As it was, Fritz – an American vampire whose fashion sense was retarded mostly back to the fifties, leaning towards a black biking leather jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans – smirked slightly, Mina – his sire, a vampire at least a century old – rolled her eyes, and Kuroba Kaito himself – recently discovered to be inadvertently Shinichi's first 'donor', and thus also seeming to take part mother hen responsibility of his near twin – only shrugged, not showing any response of a more reactive nature to his display.

"I was only saying," the thief said, smirking. "You do know that if you'd punched anywhere else, you'd have had to explain to the repair men how that hole happened to be fist shaped, don't you? Not to mention I don't think your parents would like it much if they found their home had been turned into a pock-marked frustration outlet."

His fist loosened, fell limp to his side once more.

". . . Damn it."

Kaito sighed into the silence.

"You know, if it's serious and you feel the need to talk..."

"Don't you start, too," Shinichi groaned, putting his still hurting hand up to his forehead. "The numbers of times I've been told that today-!"

"You ever stopped to think that maybe that's because they actually – wow! – care about you, Kudo?"

A short and slightly more effectual glare was sent the biker-leather clad vampire's way, and he put his hands up in mock surrender.

"When it's anyone other than police officers trying – and failing – to be subtle, then no, I think that I just might have listened to that guy instinct of mine that was saying that was saying that they were simply trying to wheedle information out of me."

"Why would they be trying to do that?"

"Apparently, Takagi-keiji and Satou-keiji know me a little too well on a subconscious level. They realised that something was off about my statement," he said, aiming the last at Kaito. "Now, they won't say anything to me about the case, convinced I'm holding back from them." He laughed once, cynically. "Of course, it doesn't help that I am."

"But didn't you tell them that it's not the kind of thing that'd get in the way of the case, and that we're covering all of those bases?"

"_Yes_." Shinichi started to pace, rather than vent his frustration like he had before. "But Kaito, you're not a detective – you don't know what it's like. You have to have all of the information, not just some of it. It's always the thing that everyone else thinks is inconsequential that ends up being what catches the criminal. If _I_ was the one in their situation, then _I_ wouldn't simply go by my word that what I was hiding was unimportant enough not to be investigated. I'd follow down any lead that came to me, no matter what it was."

"I can believe that," the thief said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Most of the time when you nearly caught me, it'd be because of something so small even I'd looked over."

The detective paused in his pacing with a brief smirk on his face.

"Is that your way of saying that you're as close to perfect as you can be, or that I've simply always been better than you?"

"Pass," the thief said smoothly. "But I think I get what you're saying, in any case."

"So. . . does this mean that you are going to tell them, at some point?"

Shinichi and Kaito both looked at the female vampire with incredulity, not believing their ears. Even Fritz snorted.

"Sheesh, even now you're as naive as a bat when it comes to stuff like this," said the New Yorker. He pointed at Kaito. "Thief." He pointed at himself, Mina and Shinichi in turn. "Vampires. You want to break their minds first, or do I get to be the one who gets to see 'em faint?"

A sharp grin adorned his face, and Mina shook her head.

"Very well, I'll take that as a no. Then do you have any idea of what you are going to be doing about the situation?"

The two almost-twins shared the exact same look. It was one of a sort of understanding. A stubborn sort of refusal to despair, to keep on going even if it seems like you aren't actually getting anywhere.

They looked away, and Shinichi shook his head.

"Not a clue. I've always done better to be able to see the crime scene, though – maybe once things have settled down at the station today I can sneak in somehow." He sighed in resignation and frustration. "Like as not, anything I might have been able to pick up is probably long gone by now. But I'd still like to have a look. There might be _something_..."

"O-oi, you want company? Might be interesting to actually work together for once, you know, right?"

Shinichi threw the thief a crooked smirk.

"Thanks. Might be fun. You do know that place is probably going to be swarming with police still once we get there, don't you?"

Kaito's face paled minutely as he made a comical face.

"Erk?"

"You said you would," Shinichi threw back as he went off into the hallways of his home once more, "so you can't go back on your word, Kuroba."

"I-idiot! Why would I want to do that? I've been in far larger crowds of police before!"

Shinichi snorted, still able to hear the other clearly.

"Yeah, right. In dog-piles and in disguise, maybe."

"Aoko's dad's a policeman, so we both know people in the station, idiot! We still go over there every so often, too!"

"...You're saying that you're _friends_ with the people who're trying to _catch_ you. . . am I right? 'Cause I'm sure that I'm supposed to be wrong."

Recognising Fritz's voice, Shinichi gave out a snort of half disbelieving laughter himself.

"You're forgetting, Fritz-san," he called back. "This is Kuroba we're talking about. That Task Force is just as much his as he is theirs, you know."

-----

Despite his earlier, slightly brash words, Kaito was ever so slightly unsettled once he reached the part of the park that had been cordoned off to the general public. It wasn't exactly the fact that there were so many police there. Not really. It was more the fact of which division they belonged to, and that also meant why they were here.

They were division one. The branch of the Japanese police dedicated to solving the serious crimes, such as murder. The kind of thing that Kudo had been dealing with perfectly well long before he had ever got in contact with the detective, and yet here they were, walking onto a crime scene, Kudo's face in a cold approximation of a vampire-version Poker Face, due to the fact that it was more than likely that just about everyone there thought that he had been the one who'd done it.

Which was, Kaito and the others knew, not true. Although there were certain discrepancies in the evidence, the one thing that was definite was that Kudo Shinichi, great detective and saviour of the police force, wasn't the culprit.

That part of the park was a part of the track that the joggers and cyclists had often used; he remembered the route well from his brief jaunt as 'Katie', the American girl who had liked to watch and watch over Kudo, usually from a safe distance. Now, of course, there were no people running or cycling or kicking around footballs and generally just relaxing. The feel of the place was so taut with tension that Kaito could probably have been able to cut it with a blunt spoon.

When he looked closer, his estimate of how many police there actually were was found to be slightly off; there were simply a few in each place, talking, going over evidence, searching, just simply being there – there was more than one group where an officer was to be seen slacking off, reading or staring at the others.

Then again, it had been nearly a week since all of this had started.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Shinichi begin to stride purposefully and unerringly towards one particular park bench. Not, he thought, coincidental to the fact that there were more police keeping watch over that area than there were on any of the others. Undoubtedly it was the place where it had happened, though they used the normal park track-come-road to get there. There was probably still the reek of blood and death in the area; it was hard enough to get out of a place for human noses, but for vampiric ones in a place where everything had been kept as close to how things had been when the graveyard shift had found the scene, it was probably just this side of unbearable. Put that together with the fact that it was Shinichi's own place of mental trauma, and. . .

He spared the detective a concerned sideways glance.

"Oi, you are all right, yeah?"

Shinichi paused for a moment, looked at him, nodded and continued as if nothing had passed between them.

"Because, you know," and they were getting nearer and nearer to that bench, which didn't really look all that inviting, "if you ever felt anything like, um, less than a hundred percent, then that's why I came, you know. So you could- "

Shinichi's fists – or at least, the one that he could see – clenched tightly.

" –talk. I was gonna say _talk_, Kudo." The fists released themselves, but a slight amount of the tension stayed on as a sort of flinch. Kaito sighed inside, but didn't show the reaction on his face. He was going to be patient. He _was_.

As they came closer to the site though, one of the officers nudged the other, and they both began to surreptitiously watch the two coming down the path towards them. At first it almost seemed as though they might be welcoming, but Kaito's heart and hopes fell once he was able to see their faces. Discomfort, a slight bit of sadness, mistrust, fear, pity, professionalism. Those weren't the faces of policemen who would likely be willing to let Shinichi have a wander around his own crime scene for even the guy's state of mind.

Nevertheless, he didn't let any of this show on his face. He plastered a bight, prankster's grin on his face and bounded forward to meet the two long faced men, so that they met in his territory, not theirs.

"Ne, keibu-tachi – keibu-tachi!"

The two detectives looked over at them, startled. Obviously, they hadn't been expecting either one of the 'amateurs' to draw attention to themselves at all. _Definitely not anyone who's ever been in the Task Force, then_, he mused, humour lacing his thoughts. Anyone from the Task Force would have noticed and at least tried to head off a distraction ploy when they saw one. He could say that much at least for Nakamori's men. These two. . . hadn't even noticed his detective friend slipping around them while they had their attention on the grinning idiot in front of them. Though that might have had something to do with the fact that Kudo was a vampire, it still didn't entirely excuse them.

He could only distract them for so long, however, and while Kudo was a bit more capable of processing a lot of information very quickly, it was still the middle of the afternoon, which didn't allow him full mental ability to process whatever he saw or figured out. By the time one of them thought to look back around, there wasn't actually much more either of them could do, and the look on Shinichi's face was enough to say that there wasn't anything more to find, either.

Tantei-kun was looking every bit the person with the storm cloud following them, or a black dog on their shoulder, if they liked that analogy better. Head bowed and face mostly hidden by a baseball cap he presumed the other had bought weeks ago with the name of a local team on it, hands firmly thrust into blazer pockets and strides short and tense, the vampire was the picture of someone on the very edge of their patience.

Kaito sighed and lightly hinted at a different route, one that would catch more shade as they walked under tall bushes, trees and picture-postcard scenery and structures. Admittedly it was a route usually frequented by lovers and spies, but he was sure that if he could get over the embarrassment, then Shinichi certainly could. Especially since it was because of him that they were taking it in the first place.

". . . Oi, Shinichi. You even find anything back there?"

The detective started slightly at the sound of his own name, and someone asking him something. He shook his head, probably to clear it of cobwebs.

"No. . . or at least, I don't think so. There was a whiff of something I think was familiar, but it might as well have been anyone I've met before. Nearly any of the officers, but not Takagi, Satou, Megure or the others. I come across them too often to mistake them for anyone else. They have been there, though."

Kaito nodded silently. He'd thought as much.

"Anything else?"

Shinichi's hand reached up scratch at his head before encountering the hat, apparently forgotten up until that moment.

"Well, one thing I know for sure is that the victim was the only one that bled." He shook his head again, but this time in puzzlement and irritation. Not to mention no small amount of guilt. "There can't have been any struggle whatsoever. With me so nearby, there was no way I would have been able to miss something like that. . ."

Kaito snorted, annoyed at the direction that the conversation was going – yet again.

"Yeah, yeah – you would've been able to stop it from happening if you'd don this, you'd have been able to have caught the guy by now if only you could remember. I've heard you say all this before, and I'll say it again – you aren't perfect, so don't try and kid yourself you are."

Shinichi shot him a long-suffering look, so Kaito backed away in mock surrender.

"Fine, fine! How about we don't talk about that for a while, then?"

The detective sighed.

"All right. Then what do we talk about?"

Kaito collapsed gracefully to the slightly damp – all right, more than just slightly, it was October – ground.

"How about we talk about you for a change?" At Shinichi's wary look, he further explained. "It's just. . . how do I put this? You've been teetering between looking as though you want to kill those guys and wanting to trust them ever since they got here yesterday. Care to explain why?"

For one terrifying instant, Shinichi seemed to simply just shut down, not the same way that he had seen the guy back at the station, but a simple act of locking himself in and everybody else out. For that instant, Kaito was scared that the simple – and obviously not so simple and straightforward – question had cut him off from the guy, a step too far. Then, appearing to have made his decision, Kudo sat himself down on the ground not too far away from Kaito himself.

"You want to know why it is that I don't know what to do with them?" Kaito nodded, not trusting himself not to say a wrong word. "It's really been bugging you that much?"

Kaito snorted softly.

"Eh, it's been bugging me, sure. . . but not enough that I'd have asked otherwise. I only asked because it's been looking like it's been bugging you, and like I said earlier – I'm here if you want to talk. Actually, even if you don't want to – I think you _need_ it, Kudo."

"Well, I _don't_ want to talk about it."

Kaito laughed.

"I thought you'd had it with acting like a seven year old, Kudo. Maybe you were more affected by that drug than you let on."

"Don't push it, Kuroba," came the irritated retort. "I don't have to tell anyone anything if I don't want to."

A snort. "Yeah, right. If you really didn't want to let it all out, you wouldn't even still be here now. Right?" When Shinichi didn't say or do anything to disprove his theory, Kaito sighed. "How long've you been bottling it all up for, anyway?"

Shinichi turned his face away to look into the distance, and when he looked back there was a dark expression hidden there.

"One month, two weeks and anywhere up to two days more. If you're talking about Conan, add a year or so."

Kaito whistled softly.

"Sheesh. You've been hanging around Hakuba too long."

A twitch of the mouth broke Shinichi's dour look.

"At least he has the right appreciation for Holmes, unlike _some_ people I could mention."

"Excuse me! I do appreciate Holmes. I just don't want to _be_ him."

The two laughed, and Shinichi raised a hand to his forehead, a smile on his face.

"I dread to think how Aoko-kun would react if you suddenly did. Probably angrily, and with a mop, knowing her. For someone who still goes off to heists with a 'Kid go home' sign, she's pretty fond of both your identities, nowadays."

"Heh. You're telling me? When I first told her, I thought I was gonna get pounded to a pulp, later on. I still don't think I've gotten over the fact that I didn't."

Shinichi looked away again, smile fading.

"Ran. . . didn't take my secret so well. Then again, she didn't find out in the kindest of ways. I wouldn't have like to have found out that way, when I was only just experiencing things for the first time, too. . . But then again, maybe it was for the best."

Kaito stared but didn't say anything. This wasn't what he had been expecting.

"She overheard," the detective was saying softly. "Overheard me arguing with Agasa and Ai over the probability of my current existence. Haibara was certain that this was only temporary, that I'd told Ran that I'd be able to stay when it was a lie. I got angry. . . told them that Conan was dead. I saw Ran outside moments later when I ran out, and she was in tears. I was a coward and scared, Kuroba. I ran."

"O-oi, that's all right. I mean, no, it isn't. But I don't blame you. I would've run if it'd been me. I mean, if Aoko'd somohow been able to listen in on me talking to mom or Jii back before she knew..."

"Yeah, but at least you would've still been a person to her. You wouldn't have had to be afraid that she was going to be afraid of you simply because of what you are. I mean, Kid's still human. At least Aoko'd still be _able_ to beat you up."

_Oi, oi._ . . thought Kaito, his face going slightly slack, a twitch developing at one of his eyes. _What's that supposed to mean, anyway?_

"She still went back to you, though," he thought to point out.

"Yeah," Shinichi said, voice distant. "Yeah, she did."

"And I mean," said Kaito, struggling to piece things together from what he had heard and learned, "you didn't exactly choose all this, did you?"

Silence.

_Okay. Stop freaking me out here, Kudo. Tell me, damn it!_

"Did you?"

_Please. Please tell me. . . I don't know. Something. Help me out here, will you. . ?_

"I . . ."

Shinichi's voice cracked, and a part of Kaito's heart clenched behind an instinctive yet useless mask.

"I. . . didn't have a. . . there wasn't any other choice."

"What do you mean?"

Shinichi shook his head.

"Exactly what I said. I didn't have any other choice. You read the file – you must have. That guy. . . he would have been too powerful, otherwise. Too fast. He'd already killed one person in less time than it took to tie a shoelace. I couldn't risk going back there as I was – I'd get killed, and if I wasn't there. . . even as Conan. . . and Ran. It never left my mind from the moment I left that place that Ran was in danger. So. . . when I found them, all the way back then, and she – she gave me a choice. I hate her for how she did it, but I have to respect her for that one thing – she did give me a choice. . ."

Kaito swallowed hard as Shinichi trailed off. This wasn't what he had expected at all. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't even sure what he had been expecting. Maybe something on the lines of Dracula, something forced on him, or even some huge trick where Kudo hadn't even realised what had been happening until it had already happened.

Kudo looked back at him, and for some reason Kaito wasn't too surprised to see a grimly bitter smile on his face.

"I suppose you think I'm some kind of stupid freak now, huh. . ."

At first, Kaito couldn't think of anything to say. Then it hit him and he shook his head.

"No. . . I don't think you're stupid at all. A bit reckless when it comes to the ones you care about – but if you're thinking of that, then we're both in the same boat. And as for being a freak – just you try saying that to Ran." He laughed at the thought. "I bet you'd get karate'd all the way into next week and told 'Freak? More like a super mystery freak!'"

Kaito half expected to get several bruises for imitating Kudo's girlfriend in the last bit, but was pleasantly surprised when the guy only flopped himself into a lying down position, arms above his head.

"You really don't care, do you."

He shrugged.

"Yes and no. I don't care because no matter what else changed about you, you're still the stupid Holmes freak that likes to chase me around and borrow Hakuba's cosplay from time to time. Still the guy Ran likes. I do care because what you just told me says that you knew the risks, but the threat to the others outweighed them. And _that_ makes me respect you."

Kudo shook his head, and after a while stood back up, dusting himself off. He looked into the distance and sighed. But when he turned back to Kaito offering him a hand up, the magician could see that there was a slantways smile resting on his face.

"I don't think I'll ever get to understand you, Kaito."

"Mm. Maybe not. But then again, if we did understand each other just like that, life wouldn't be as interesting, ne?" A dove appeared out from within Kaito's sleeve, cooed and sidled up to him. He stroked its head. "Ever thought of telling any of that to 'Neechan?" He asked, using Hattori's nickname for her.

Shinichi shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know."

-----

"Ah – hakase?"

"Oh, Shinichi-kun! I'll just be a minute!"

Shinichi nodded absently, and started to change his shoes to go inside. The professor's place hadn't changed that much in all the time he had known the man, and even recently the only real difference – other than the hardly noticeable smaller chairs in places and twice as many experiments that belonged to Haibara Ai – were the blackout curtains that were now positioned at the tops of each of the many windows, for emergency purposes. They could easily be explained away as a new eccentricity for use when experimenting with light-sensitive projects, and what was more, Shinichi thought with no little apprehension, they might well be. The faint reek of solder in the air did nothing to calm him of his worry.

Knowing that the older man would be a little while setting things down safely, Shinichi wandered around the open area that the professor lived in with Haibara. As usual, there were the familiar oddities and trinkets left unfinished on the worktops, bits and pieces of machinery lying around haphazard. Some looked unfinished, while others looked near to completion. One in particular caught his eye as something that looked somewhat akin to a microscope and one of those devices used to breath in steam when you had a cold. Curious, he leaned in further, only to start when he accidentally pressed down on something – damn it, he really didn't know his own strength sometimes now – which set off a series of cogs until –

"Erarghk!"

Overpowered by the many strong scents now emanating from the machine, Shinichi started to cough and hack to get the burning out of his nose and lungs. Which, while he didn't admittedly always need to breath, was a good and useful thing, especially if he wanted to talk and eat and look like a normal human being.

He barely heard the steps coming rushed up the stairs from the lab.

"Shinichi-kun, what is it, are you all right – I should have packed that up, it's unfinished, really shouldn't have been left around like that..."

"I-" Shinichi gasped, trying to get the air for words. "I'm – will be fine. Just a couple of minutes – to get – my breathing back."

The professor was left standing around, obviously unsure of what to do by the shifting of his feet and almost _certainly_ feeling guilty while Shinichi's coughing fits slowly and gradually died down enough for him to speak almost properly again.

"What – sorry – what _was_ that?"

"It was, ah. . ."

"_Hakase_..."

"I'd been thinking about the way your recent investigations, and how they so often use your nose, so I thought that maybe it might be useful if I could figure out a way that normal people could have that same kind of advantage. . . It's still not finished yet, though. I haven't been able to get something quite right. . ."

With a gasp and eyes wide with disbelief, Shinichi shook his head.

"No kidding, hakase. . . that'd never work."

"What? Shinichi-kun, I'll have you know that I'm very close to a breakthrough, and..."

"Still not going to work, hakase. . . let me guess – that missing something you're after. It's supposed to separate out all the scents while also somehow making them clearer but not overpoweringly so?" He sighed at the professor's look of shock at his simple deduction. "Turn it off and dismantle it, hakase. That's my advice."

"D-dismantle?! Isn't that going a little far?"

Shinichi shook his head vehemently, and held his nose.

"Nuh-uh. There's a reason normal humans aren't supposed to smell that strongly. We got the right instincts for that sorta stuff – you don't. And you can't just add instincts into an equation. . . not, at the very least, when they're like these ones are."

The professor looked at Shinichi sadly as the detective shook his head one last time, as though imitating a dog, with a strange expression on his face as the last of the damage was being repaired. His gaze shifted to his creation – now revealed to be useless – and sighed despondently.

"Oh - ! Uh, was there something you wanted, Shinichi-kun?"

Shinichi instantly perked up, although that was rewarded by a sneeze.

"Actually, there was. I was wondering if Haibara was around? I didn't know whether or not she'd be back yet, so. . ."

The professor was shaking his head.

"I'm afraid not. She rang to tell me that they had been given a case – nothing too big, mind, just a lost cat, I think – and that they might not be back for a while. It's early yet, though. Why? What was it you wanted to talk to her about?"

"Ah – nothing too important. Really. Nothing to worry about..."

An arm snaking its way to the nape of his neck, he knew he probably looked the very opposite of innocent. But he really couldn't tell the professor just yet. He had to speak to Haibara first, and then some other people after her if she agreed to his insane plan.

"And I'm not supposed to be worrying about – what, exactly? When you come all the way here, Kudo-kun."

Both he and the professor jumped at the voice of the precocious little girl's voice that drifted through from the doorway.

"What happened to that case of yours hakase told me about?" Shinichi asked, getting over his slight surprise. He wasn't usually startled like that anymore. "And what do you mean by 'all the way here'? I only live next door!"

"It turned out that the kid's cat was with his next door neighbour," said Genta, sounding highly disheartened at the turn of events. "It wasn't even a real case."

"Yeah, yeah," agreed Mitsuhiko. "No one even died or got robbed from or anything. . ."

Both Shinichi and the professor sweatdropped. Haibara glared at them lightly as she came in, having taken off her shoes in exchange for house slippers.

"Of course," said Shinichi offhandedly, "you know what I'd call that kind of case?"

"What?" asked Genta, still morose.

"A good one. A good detective always goes around hoping that a case _doesn't_ turn up – sure, there's a thrill to solving the mysteries that occur in _real _life, but if there's a case, it always happens at someone's expense. That is, there's always at _least_ one person who's left really, really unhappy. Got it?"

The three faces, once they appeared at last, looked thoughtful, considering what he had just said in their minds. It was something he was sure he'd said at least once as Conan, but they were just kids. And kids wanted excitement, not real life. They still had to grow up a lot to figure that one out.

Unsurprisingly, it was Ayumi who spoke up about it first.

"I think I get it," she said. "It's like how Noguchi-kun was so happy when his cat was found, and he was really sad when he thought it'd been lost. Right, Shinichi-niisan?"

Shinichi nodded absently, suddenly more interested in what the professor was doing with the gizmo they had only just been discussing.

"Oi, hakase," he called over in a flatly irritated voice. "I thought I told you to break that thing down?"

"Ah – yeah. . . sorry," the professor said with a self-conscious laugh. Shinichi rolled his eyes. The rest of the Shounen Tantei sniggered, and there was even a humoured light in Haibara's eyes.

"Ne, Shinichi-niisan? I. . ."

"Hm? What is it, Ayumi-chan?"

The little girl blushed – she still did, when he called her that, with that familiar honorific that he was used to using as Conan. It was kind of cute, in a way, since he supposed that 'Shinichi-niisan' reminded her of 'Conan-kun'.

"I – I just wanted you to know that I think you look a lot better today than before. You looked all unwell before, like you were really, really _sick_. I always thought that the Shinichi-niisan Conan-kun was always talking about would be too _smart_ to get that sick. But you're better _now_, right?"

He smiled down at her, not sure whether or not it was good that they didn't know everything. _Maybe one day_, he thought pensively, _but not today_.

"Yeah. . . I'm better now, Ayumi-chan. And you know what?"

The little girl shook her head, eyes wide. Genta and Mitsuhiko watched, glaring slightly at the older boy who was commanding so much of their little princess's attention.

"If you see me getting sick-looking like that again, you each – all three of you – have my express permission to tell Ran, okay?"

Three grinning faces shouted affirmatives up at him, likely knowing all too well that Ran would ream him out and practice her karate on him if he ever got as down as that again. No matter what the reason.

He grinned nervously back at them, that very thought in mind. Then, driven by a now near-instinctive need, he looked towards the heavens, Agasa-hakase's roof being made almost entirely of windows and glass. Closed his eyes and sighed.

"Ne. . . you lot. Shouldn't you be getting back soon? It's about to get dark soon."

Haibara gave him a sharp look but silently agreed, nodding. Agasa immediately started to fuss over the children, hurrying them out and back into their coats and shoes.

The moment the children were waved off and in the distance, Haibara turned to him sharply, one slipper-shod foot tapping on the carpet.

"All right, Kudo-kun. Now you can tell me what it is you want. It's obviously not something for younger ears, or you wouldn't have hesitated to say anything before now, would you?"

Shinichi laughed, somewhat nervously. Even knowing that he himself had been in the same situation for even longer than she, he did understand now why people would so often give him such haunted, freaked out looks when he would unwittingly be himself around them. And Haibara didn't even try to hide it.

She continued to look at him like that, and he caved in with a sigh.

"Eh. . . yeah. You won't like it, though."

"I won't know whether or not I'll like your request unless you tell me what it is, Kudo-kun."

He sighed again and let himself fall softly onto a seat, to be more of a height with the shrunken scientist. Leaned in further and began to whisper his proposed plan in her ear. By the time he had finished, her eyes were wide, her heart beating rapidly and her breathing, while outwardly regular, was obviously – to his senses, at any rate – being controlled with an iron will.

"You. . . do you have any idea what you're asking of me?"

He didn't look away. He couldn't afford to.

"I know what I'm asking, Haibara Ai. I also know that if anyone can do it, you can. You're the only one."

Haibara snorted.

"You're my only hope, huh. . ." she quoted cynically.

He shrugged , and not for the last time did he resent that unnatural grace that had been gifted him which wouldn't let her see how shaky he actually felt.

"It'll work," he assured her. "It will. I'm not so hard to kill any more, you know," he said, adding in his own brand of black humour.

"Yes, Kudo-kun," she replied testily, shaking off the last of her shock. "But what doesn't kill you doesn't always make you stronger."

----

Being back at your own school, Kaito reflected, wasn't quite as great as it could have been after being told the news by Koizumi that morning.

In fact, he was finding it downright nerve wracking, being so far away while at the same time something serious and dangerous was going on. What was more, he knew that he couldn't do anything about it. Not a thing. Zip. Nada. Koizumi herself had told him to stay out of her business for the time being, until he was allowed in on what was going on. Which wasn't reassuring when she had left school early during lunchtime, her only excuse being that she was off to meet someone.

His depressed mood ended up infecting his tricks, making people wary of him and causing at least one mop fight due to the tension that kept building up in the room, yet although it was a good release for the energy, it didn't do anything to dispel that feeling of frustration, and Aoko only got angrier and more irritated with him in return.

By the time the middle of the afternoon rolled around, not too many people looked surprised to see him simply walk out, and probably no few of them were privately relieved – not that they would say so out loud, he knew; there was far too much risk that he would get them back somehow.

So it was no small shock to find a blond head, bent over a pocket watch and form still wearing the Ekoda school uniform waiting for him as he turned the first corner.

"Ha- Hakuba?! What the hell are you doing here?"

Hakuba looked up, piercing blue eyes easily finding his, and the pocket watch snapped shut, going back into its place in the detective's uniform.

"I might well ask you the same question, Kuroba-kun. You are precisely two hours, forty-two minutes and thirty seconds early to be here, you know."

Kaito snorted and kicked aimlessly at the ground.

"Yeah, yeah. . . like I could've managed to do anything other than get on everyone's nerves back there, anyway..."

Hakuba gave him a look filled with a detective's curiosity, and they started to walk. Not to his own home, but to the other side of Ekoda, where the Hakuba mansion was situated. The place had become a sort of safe haven for the lot of them ever since Aoko had been taken straight there after her rescue, and what was more, Hakuba Saguru didn't seem to mind all that much.

"Care to tell me why?"

Kaito sighed. For a long while he didn't say anything. Then, he surprised the both of them by actually explaining.

"It's a weird thing, Hakuba. Ever since all of this started, I don't know why – maybe it's because he looks like me, I dunno... I've just been feeling able to tell the guy things. Opening up. It never mattered that he wasn't even, uh, human any more. In fact, that was why I went to him in the first place. But now - !"

Hakuba glanced at him again, a calculating look that wasn't so much intimidating as it was trying to get to the bottom of his problems. It was almost comforting, even – or maybe especially – coming from that particular source. A strange thought, but true.

"Now," Hakuba said slowly, "something is going on with Kudo-kun, apart from the case that he has found himself buried in. And he isn't letting you in."

Kaito looked away, facing the sky with his arms behind his head.

"Got it in one, Tantei-san. Though it's more like _Koizumi_ won't let me in."

"What – Koizumi? What does she have to do with all this?"

He snorted.

"Oh, how about we go with nearly everything? Apart from the fact that his great plan needs that Haibara kid as well to work, of course."

"I don't understand. What could Kudo-kun possibly want that only Koizumi-kun and Haibara-san can provide him?"

"In his words? 'A new perspective on that stupid case'," he said, imitating his twin's voice for the quote. Not a hard feat.

Hakuba stopped walking. Turned to face him slowly, confusion being taken over by no small amount of fear and trepidation.

"You. . . you can't mean. . . what I think you're meaning, can you? Please say that you aren't."

Kaito looked away, sharply.

"Sorry," he said, and started to walk again. "They asked me over at Koizumi's last night to test something out. Apparently, I'm going to be useful at one point, but not until then, and not allowed near until Koizumi _lets_ me. I'm sure you heard her earlier," he added, only a touch bitterly.

This time, it was Hakuba who snorted, once he'd caught up the pace.

"Huh. 'Useful'."

"That's what they said."

"Any idea when this idiocy is going to take place?"

"Nope. Koizumi's probably going to contact me somehow. If nothing else, for a familiar face. You know."

Hakuba nodded mutely. Kaito sent one of his own brand of calculating looks the blond's way.

"Why? You thinking of tagging along or something? It's not going to be anyone's idea of fun, you know."

"I'm well aware of that, Kuroba. And if I wish to join you, then I am sure that it would be up to Kudo-kun whether or not I am allowed to stay or not, am I right?"

Kaito stared at the detective, walking backwards to still see the guy's face. Was he serious? He leaned forward slightly, looking into those blue eyes. Hm. Maybe he was, at _that_.

He sighed.

"Ah, whatever. It's up to you. Your choice, your funeral, Hakuba-kun."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing. . ."

-----

Having never been to Koizumi Akako's place before, Shinichi hadn't quite known what to expect. But knowing the stories that Kaito and Hakuba had fed him about her along with his own experiences, he really shouldn't have been so surprised at the sight of a dilapidated-looking old western style house, in the middle of a forest that looked as though it had been grown specifically around the area for effect.

He supposed that he should have been glad to arrive during the morning, despite the fact that he had cut school to do so. At least that way it hadn't looked quite so imposing as he expected it did now.

Most of his time spent in the place had made him feel like a human – vampire – guinea pig, being poked and prodded at with needles, sticks and other such questionable implements for most of the day, and told to go make himself useful elsewhere for the rest of it. For a lot of that time, he had been honing his soccer skills, making use of the movement to be able to think more clearly on the case and what he was about to do.

After all, it wasn't as though there was no time to turn back. It was a voluntary thing, this time. Not forced, it was going to be a decision made of his own free will. Even then, it wasn't going to be a point of no return for him. . .

If Haibara, Koizumi and he were all correct, then this only had to be temporary. No wondering, searching and waiting for what could be the rest of his life, making Ran wait for him and never know if he was going to be able to come back to her.

They couldn't afford to be wrong.

Kaito and Hakuba arrived around an hour before school was supposed to end, causing raised eyebrows but no real comments – unless Fritz's spoken thought that he couldn't somehow get away from delinquents counted, that is. Shinichi had rebuffed this by saying that all of them there were either out of school by several decades or centuries or were smart enough to not be bothered by a few hours' less tuition by the teacher, who just as often as not was being taught by them rather than the other way around. There wasn't too much the American could say to that, other than the apparently obligatory 'Help - I'm surrounded by teen geniuses'.

Hakuba had almost immediately begun to grow suspicious of Fritz, the various comments about the past few decades and the consistent fifties biker look not helping any, up until the point where Kaito had felt pity for the poor detective and enlightened him on a few details. After that, it had been uncertain whether or not the news had made him any more or less trustworthy in the eyes of the blond; at times he seemed to want to ask as many questions as he could think of, but seemed to think the better of it, and at others still looked as though he were afraid Fritz would turn out to be another Kuroba Kaito, tricks and all. Or perhaps Hattori, since Shinichi had once overheard by chance a comment on how the two were far too alike for the British detective's liking.

Thankfully though, Fritz had been off somewhere else at the time, out of even vampiric hearing range for such a whisper.

Less than half an hour later, Koizumi and Haibara had called everyone into Koizumi's living room, which was surprisingly normal compared to the rest of the place.

They had gone over what each person would be doing and when. The two in charge had reiterated time after time after time that everything would have to be done exactly the way that they had planned, or else dire things might go wrong.

He was used to listening to and taking Haibara seriously, at least when it came to her experiments. According to their reactions, Kaito and Hakuba felt the same about Koizumi's warnings, despite the fact that Hakuba was as non-believing of magic as Shinichi himself once had been of anything supernatural. Kaito had told him various times of his run-ins with the witch, however, so his reaction wasn't quite so unexpected.

Mina, of course, treated everything with such an everyday air that one would think that she did these sorts of things as part of her normal routine. Fritz seemed to follow her lead, but also appeared to know almost as much on the subject as she did. His sudden shift from playful like Kaito or Hattori to being serious was what phased those who didn't know him more, though.

"We start at Twilight," Koizumi proclaimed once she was certain she had everyone's attention, and that everyone already knew what she was going to say. As things stood, there were only a few minutes until twilight at any rate, but she was a witch, and if he knew anything about this strange group he had gathered about him, it was that none of them would pass up an opportunity for drama – especially if it actually fitted in with what they wanted to do.

They all got into position, curtains drawing closed for the safety of three of their group, and Koizumi checking once more the magical circle that she had drawn in permanent marker on her living room floorboards.

"You all remember what you have to do, don't you?"

Shinichi nodded. The others must have as well, because Haibara nodded, business-like, once to herself.

"First, Kudo-kun takes the pill. Remember, this will have absolutely no effect without one or both of the next steps. Next, Kuroba-kun. You understand what you have to do, and that it would be of your own will. In other words, you could back out now if you so wished."

Kuroba shook his head, though Shinichi knew that he could hear the other's nerves.

"I came this far," the magician said. "If I back out now, none of the rest of it'll work. Besides, have any of you ever known me to take the easy, safe option, no..."

Hakuba, leaning against a far wall, snorted, nerves showing through in a shaking voice, even though he wasn't actually going to be an active part of any of it.

"Then," Haibara continued, "Kudo-kun will step into the circle, and from there Koizumi-san will take over, her spell being the thing that links the two together to make the regenerative and reparative properties of Kudo-kun's blood weak enough for the drug to take. And from there..."

"We know what happens from there, Haibara," he said, cutting across her. "Let's just get on with it."

The first rays of twilight dusk crept in through the curtains, the signal for Haibara to hand Shinichi the all-important drug that had been his bane for over a year. With the aid of a glass of water given to him by Koizumi, he swallowed, instantly feeling nausea swelling in his gut, his heart remembering what was to come if nothing else.

He kept himself standing only by willpower and the fact that Kuroba's arm was now around his shoulders, keeping him upright. His wrist in front of his face.

It was something that they had only recently and by accident discovered. Koizumi had attempted several minor spells both on him and in his general vicinity unwittingly only a short time after that morning in the police station when Shinichi had drunk Kaito's blood. The witch had started to suspect something at the time, but hadn't had the opportunity to look further into the matter until that very morning, when she had been able to experiment with both Shinichi and Kaito's blood to her heart's content.

The discovery had been that Kuroba Kaito had reasons for being such a good magician. Some of the things that he did both as himself and as the Kaitou Kid would not normally be thought of as possible. One such thing – and the most important, both in Koizumi Akako's view and for the current operation taking place – was that the magician's blood acted as a temporary inhibitor for most other types of magic other than the Kuroba's own brand.

As a result, as long as the thief's blood was in his system as a major contributor, the pill – Apotoxin 4869 – would actually _work_, instead of being taken apart harmlessly.

Thankfully, he wouldn't need too much, for Kuroba's safety and his own sanity. Body mass changes meant that what his body now translated as 'not enough' would possibly be 'just enough' on the other end.

His mouth came away from the wrist ever so slightly bloody due to not being able to co-ordinate himself properly anymore now, and he heard a stifled _erk_ sound from the back of the room. Hushed voices as he stumbled into the circle. Defiant. He would do this. He had to.

Had to.

Despite and through the pain, which was now reaching each and every one of his cells, putting them on fire. In spite of the feeling that, no matter what he did, he would now never get the aches and pains and cramps out of his muscles and joints.

Had to keep going. Get through this. Stay alive, whatever alive meant now, because he _wouldn't give up_.

Not even when the scream tore its way from his throat, an inhuman scream of agony and determination and fear and complete and utter _darkness_, just as he was blacking out.

----

AN: Well, there you go. I wonder how many of you have screamed/cried/ insert random other at that plot twist? Nyeehee, been planning that one since probably about halfway through TVD1.

Again, if you think that for any reason (though give me a good one) this fic should have its rating upped, tell me. If enough people say so, I will. If not, I won't.

I hope you enjoyed this. I stayed up way, way too late (early?) working on it.


	7. Forever Young

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Six – Forever Young

_Let us die on let us live forever/ We don't have the power but we never say never/ Life in the sandpit is a short trip/ Music's for the sad man. . ._ Forever Young – Youth Group

----

Hakuba Saguru had never liked superstitions. He could never have been able to say such a thing before, and that counted for now as well. That did not, however, mean to say that he had never even once in his life believed in a superstition. That he had never done something to humour a friend, for luck, for his own state of mind. . .

After all, both of his heritages embraced the tradition of friendly superstition, Japan in everything from its decidedly non-Christian holiday origins to the annoying way that, if a good enough detective wasn't found in time, a crime could be pinned on a demonic being or spirit while the true criminal walked off Scott-free. England. . . had an innumerable number of wishing wells and folk tales about fairies, whether or not they were true and putting aside for the moment the fact that Doyle himself had been taken in by at least one of the stories.

He had never taken any of it truly seriously, though – it had always been said or done with a pinch of salt, a half hidden cynical smile behind his public polite one. Logic had always won, knowing as he did that money thrown into a wishing well did not grant the wish of anyone other than the one who collected it, and the rest of the time ignoring the possibility of anything truly abnormal unless he was proving it wrong.

With the arrival of the Kid, his ability to use reason in a tough situation only improved his ability to glaze over the details just enough to focus on the task at hand, which had at the time been catching the elusive thief.

Even now, when he was on the same side as the thief, he found himself putting a patina of denial in the guise of logic to some of the things the other was able to do.

With the coming of one Kudo Shinichi, his opinion had not changed in the slightest. . . and neither had his methods of dealing with such things the detective now currently personified.

The current actions said detective was taking, however, were a little harder to stomach.

He swallowed hard, attempting to bite back nausea after an exclamation he hadn't expected to come out with. He could only say that he was glad of the chair he was now sitting on, or else he probably be sat rather embarrassingly with a thump on the floor.

It was one thing to know something in his head – he had noticed all of those strange ticks that the Eastern detective had before being let in on the secret, and was now told of what Kudo understood from these new inputs if it was ever deemed necessary or useful, or just plain polite. But it was another thing entirely to see it happening right in front of you, the incontrovertible proof that vampires existed.

"Are you sure that you are all right, Hakuba-kun?"

He started at the still new tones of lightly spoken Japanese over old hints of northern Europe. Right. Mina. The one who had made Kudo Shinichi into the vampire detective of the east.

"Perfectly," he replied softly, absently trying not to be too loud. "Absolutely perfectly fine. Why shouldn't I be? It isn't as though one of my close acquaintances is in the process of draining most of the bodily fluids from one of my other close acquaintances. No, wait, it is. Still, nothing to worry about. Hardly as thought there's anything that could go _wrong_."

Mina gave him a long look with a slight frown. She was bent down slightly for them to see eye to eye rather than having to have him looking up at her.

"There really isn't any real reason to worry, you know," she said in a conversational tone.

"Enlighten me."

Most of the time, everything had been talked over with the ones directly involved present. Saguru himself was not one of them. He also now realised that he might have been trying to let denial rule over him for just a short while longer. A foolish concept.

She shrugged, as though either noncommittal or tentative with her words.

"Shinichi-kun and Kuroba-kun both trust each other implicitly. Kuroba-kun is Shinichi-kun's first donor, also. . . a taxing role, requiring an awful amount of reliance and dependence. However, this also means that Shinichi-kun will instinctively know when it is not safe to go any further, and will probably not even go that far, knowing the boy's reluctance to even agree to this method in the first place."

"Mina-san," he said in a carefully controlled voice, which Kudo's sire could probably see through as though the control was not even there, "it has already been two minutes and thirty-seven point five seconds. Kuroba's looking pale. I don't like it."

The woman glanced at him, but only briefly, her attention focused more on the two in the centre of the room.

"You don't have to," she said distantly. Just before Kudo's head came up, mouth bloody and releasing his grip on Kuroba, allowing the magician to stumble away, and even _he_ could see that Kuroba was shaking, though not as much as Kudo was.

He couldn't help himself; he was hardly afraid of blood, but he was used to seeing it on corpses or injured people, not as a foodstuff, with the person drinking it a friend of his, fangs out in a predatory snarl. A small noise of unease found its way out as the vampire stumbled, now unaided.

Koizumi was instantly there, and for once he allowed her to help him get to the ground before his legs, which obviously couldn't hold up his weight by nerves or blood loss by now, gave way first. Saguru didn't have time to study the indignant and worried twinge of his emotions before the witch – funny how it was easier to accept that than vampires; he supposed he had lived with her presence longer – stood once more, chanting.

Saguru did not like the sound of the words coming out of the beautiful girl's mouth. They sounded wrong. As though they had never meant to be said. And, as she had said herself, they hadn't been. A vampire is supposed to live as a vampire, and their nature is not supposed to be toyed with. To do so, she said, is dangerous.

Seeing the detective as he was now, he couldn't help but agree. This was wrong, it was causing irrefutable and excruciating pain. And yet from what he had heard the others say, some of this at least was what Kudo Shinichi had gone through each and every time he had switched between Edogawa Conan and his ordinary self.

Suddenly, he felt quite green.

"You don't have to be here, you know. You had the choice. You still do. You don't need to see this."

"Then..." He swallowed, hard. "Then I am afraid that you do not know me, Mina-san. I said that I would stay. So stay I will."

Kudo Shinichi screamed, and he flinched. He was not entirely surprised to see Kuroba doing the same, but rather more perceptibly due to his physical state. Koizumi didn't stop her spell, however.

"Kudo-kun and Kuroba-kun put a great deal of trust in me, knowing that I would be present at a time when they would both be entirely oblivious to the world around them. Especially Kudo-kun, who will emerge from this far weaker than he would like, even if it would be far stronger than he first experienced the form."

He cut himself off at the expression on the older vampire's face; one that was cool and calculating, though with her experience of manipulation he could not see what the questions were she sought to have him answer. She looked as though she were about to say something more, but didn't.

At first, he didn't understand why, but then she started to move towards the middle of the room, where a cloud of smoke was enveloping the now unconscious high school detective, soon to be grade school detective once more. Then he realised that Koizumi had stopped her chanting, and was now looking on over by where Haibara was, talking in what looked from his distance to be a calm voice, but with shaking hands.

It was done. Not finished by any rate, but definitely, defiantly, done.

He let out one shaky breath, and released his white-knuckled grip on the chair – funny how he hadn't remembered doing that – and stood, to go over to Kuroba. Who was drinking hot chocolate with a warm thermal blanket wrapped around him on the floor.

The smoke cleared with painstaking sluggishness, taking its time even more than the worst of one of Kid's pink smoke bombs, the ones with the sleeping gas in them.

But when it did, all heads turned to what it revealed – the small form of one Edogawa Conan, fitfully unconscious and appearing uncomfortably feverish.

---

After that, they had taken watches throughout the night, with even Mina and Fritz taking their turns with sleep. Each one would watch over Kudo – no, he had better start referring to the boy as Edogawa-kun, now – for an hour or two, then wake up the next person for their watch. Even though for some it wasn't so much 'wake up' as it was 'make aware that they should have been asleep'.

Hattori Heiji's remark of Kudo-kun's sleeping habits from back when Saguru couldn't possibly have understood finally made sense. Kudo Shinichi really did sleep like the dead, and it gave him a minor heart attack every time he walked into the room; he was sure it would have been bad enough if the other had been his usual age, but as a child it was hardly the easiest sight to get over even once. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Kuroba had managed to sleep in the same room with him back when they had made the thief magician's house their base of operations, and he dreaded the reaction that the Mouris would have to it when Conan finally went back to them.

The evening hours and midnight had passed without anyone feeling very much of an appetite, the early hours of the morning passing by with excruciating slowness. Kuroba had been all but forced into sleep in a room nearby, in order to have the time for his body to replenish his blood through rest. Koizumi had retired to her room each time she had been able to, but had come back down punctually when needed once more. Mina-san had rested, or seemed to rest, in the same room as Edogawa. Fritz, however, had simply paced about, agitated and getting on everyone's nerves.

Saguru could understand the sentiment, even if he didn't exactly appreciate it very much.

It was perhaps five o'clock, going on for half past, when the boy showed his first signs of movement, if not of waking up.

His breathing had started to come back onto a more perceptible scale, alerting both him and Fritz – who promptly woke Mina up – that either he was waking up or something was going wrong. Their second guess was proven right when the almost normal sounding breathing changed to an uncomfortable wheeze.

Not long after that, the boy screamed, still asleep, the sound waking up everyone else who wasn't already in the room. Kuroba, for one, bounded back into the room with his eyes wide and reaching for the card gun that wasn't there until they realised what exactly was going on.

Mina was by Kudo's side in an instant, holding onto him gently but firmly, holding him back when he finally opened his eyes, blue eyes wide and in pain, and tried to bolt. His face was pale and yet flushing at the same time, sweat pouring off him and making his now outsized clothes damp, making Saguru wonder whether the others had known that this would come and hadn't put some more appropriate clothes on him before.

Though his face had been wiped down for the sake of his and the others' sanity, when he grimaced the two sharp canines were clearly visible, and his mouth still slightly cherry red.

Nausea turned Saguru's stomach, and it wasn't helped when Kudo suddenly convulsed into a tight ball with a keen. He turned to the woman holding the child-shaped detective, a question in his eyes.

"He shouldn't be reacting like this," she said. "But I think I know why. . . the last time this happened to him, he only had human limits and perceptions to get used to. Yet this time..." she trailed off as Kudo stifled a feverish sob.

"This time," continued Haibara Ai from the other end of the room, voice trying to sound professional but wavering, "he has his vampiric traits to battle, as well. Which I had warned him of. Meaning that his body still sees itself as being seventeen, and thus his mind feels that he is severely depleted in blood, even though he likely is physically fine."

Mina nodded in agreement and Fritz trawled his hands through his unruly light brown hair.

"Can't anyone do anything about this, then?" he asked faintly.

He had been expecting one of the two women to answer him, but it was actually Fritz who spoke.

"Not unless we want things to get worse, no," came the growled reply in heavily accented English, the vampire's Japanese forgotten in the moment. "Kuroba there's not out, but he'd be an idiot to try and help now – it'd undo everything, at this stage. Koizumi's just as bad, with magic in her very blood. And no offence, but Haibara's a bit too much of a chibi to be of any help right now, Hakuba. You didn't even have to be here – still don't have to, if you don't want to watch. Kudo chose this. He knew the risks."

Saguru blinked, his breath catching. He shoved himself off from the wall he had been leaning against.

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning," he said, switching to his birth language himself.

"What I'm _saying_," Fritz said, coming to an abrupt halt right in front of him, "is that there's nothing that can really, really help him right now. He needs to ride it. Unless someone could somehow trick his body into thinking that it's back to normal levels. Jolt it into remembering what shape it is now. Something like that, you get it?"

Saguru swallowed, hard, but hardened the expression on his face. He wouldn't let himself be intimidated. It had always been the way that Kudo had challenged everything that he had always thought to be true that had left him spooked, not Kudo himself.

"I'll kindly ask you to tell me what you mean by your saying that there's nothing that can help him right now, and then following it with that," he said coldly. He turned to Kaito, who was staring at them and looking as though he'd been trying to follow the conversation over the minor language barrier. When he spoke – switching back to Japanese as he did so – the magician looked at him as if he had grown a spare head. "Kuroba. What exactly did you do last week at the station to make him calm down and become responsive?"

"I – I – Are you absolutely out of your _mind_?" Kaito shouted. Kudo whimpered and held his now small hands to his ears. They both winced, and when Kaito continued, it was at a low hiss. "He's a vampire, you idiot. How else did you think I got him like that so quickly? Pink fluffy bunnies and roses? Are you really ready for that, Hakuba?"

Saguru met the other's gaze squarely.

"I would like to think that I am capable of telling what I am and am not ready for, Kuroba. And I assure you that I – that I won't..."

Kaito just stared for a long moment. Then he slowly shook his head.

"I was right. You are going insane. Completely and utterly bonkers."

There was silence. It was broken when Kudo, who had been wheezing in an effort to get what little air he still needed, cried out again before cutting himself off with a bitten lip, tears streaking down his lip.

"Perhaps I am finally going insane, but I don't think that this is a product of it," Saguru said softly, willing the others to understand. "I know what it's like to want to be able to save someone, to help them, and not be able to. That's part of what it is to be a _detective_, Kuroba. That is why I simply cannot stand by and idly let this go on. Not if I can help."

Kuroba finally looked up with the intention of meeting his bright violet eyes to Saguru's blue.

"Then I can't stop you, huh?"

"Is there any reason why you should want to?"

"I..." Kuroba hesitated when he started to move forward, toward where Mina and Kudo were. He sighed. "You don't even know what you're getting into, Hakuba."

"Then why don't you _enlighten_ me?"

"Do you really want to be tied to someone like that? To not be able to really, really want to hurt them, even if you wanted to? To feel so – so attached?" Fritz and Mina stayed silent, still watching. Kudo, he could see, was still in an intense amount of pain – made worse, without a doubt, by the teeth that were still impaled in his lower lip. His breathing was still coming in and out with a wheeze. "To feel like there doesn't have to be a good reason, to help him, even though you've not known him for very long at all," Kuroba finished softly.

If the speech had been meant to deter him, it had not done its job very well at all.

"I believe," he said, continuing on until he was right in front of Mina, then crouching in place, "that all of those reasons that you have listed are things that would only deter a person so long as they did not already respect and appreciate the person in question. Which I do," he said, and proceeded to roll up his right sleeve.

The proffered arm was looked at, stared at, but untouched by hand or fang. Even though he could see that Kudo was badly feverish and in need of some respite. This went on for a minute and a half, until, voice unsteady, he asked if there was something wrong.

Everyone started at the sound of his voice in the steady quiet that had developed in the room. Kudo keened softly, small arms wrapped around his small form, rocking slightly.

Kuroba cursed.

"You're not marked," he said bluntly. "That's why he won't even touch you – Fritz, you said it'd be possible for him to bite someone he hasn't marked, but . . . he had a problem the first time he tried that. Things got out of control. That was when he marked me," he said, pulling up his sleeve underneath the blanket he had wrapped around him still and showing the long, well healed scar that had drawn Saguru to figure out what was going on with the two of them once and for all. "But you're not marked. He–"

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Like _this_," came the frustrated tones of the American.

He scarcely had time to register what was happening when two arms came into view, one holding his arm in place, the other hand taking control of Kudo's head, guiding the startled younger vampire's fangs towards his arm. A moment later, there was a numb sort of pain there that was quickly disappearing as his arm was turned over and released, only to be gripped by to slightly damp, much smaller hands straight after.

The first thought to find its way into Saguru's head after that was how odd the situation was. He had only found out about Kudo two weeks or so ago. And now this, and it he didn't really even feel it at all, only this strange tingling sensation which he now realised had been made by the fact that Kudo's fangs had been retracting slowly as he fell asleep, this time looking much more at ease than before.

He blinked to himself, bemused, as Koizumi wordlessly brought over the bandages that were required for the wound on his arm, along with some gauze with which to clean it. He thanked her quietly, to which she simply shot him an unreadable look.

"Like we said," Mina told them slowly, continuing to hold the boy in her lap. "He only needed a little. To remind his body. He'll be fine now, I should think." She looked up with a bright smile at him, as he had moved a short distance away out of propriety to clean the wound. "I should thank you, too. . . Welcome to the family, Hakuba Saguru. Well come and well met."

Saguru shot a confused look over at Kaito, who looked like he had just been hit by a fish and been told the most hilarious thing both at the same time.

"Oops," said the thief. "Never told him about the clan thing. Oh, well," he said, with a sideways grin, "does that make us brothers now or something?"

Fritz gave them a strange look from over where he was now slumped in an armchair.

"Only if you want to be," he said.

Kaito grinned, and Saguru busied himself with tying up the end of the bandage. It hadn't been that deep of a thing, but apparently, it had meant a lot.

----

Waking up was like clawing his way out of a human-sized vat of jam, treacle and custard, all mixed in together in an unholy mix that came out in one big _uergh_.

The first thing that came back to him as he attempted and failed to blink, due to the sheer amount of dust and whatnot that had gathered on his eyes during sleep, was his sense of heightened smell.

He sighed in pleasure at the aroma that wafted to his nose – whoever was cooking, whatever was being cooked, was good. He was _starving_. He rose, eyes still closed. _Mmm. . . Ran. Ran's cooking. Occhan must be awake already, or I'd have been woken up by him snoring, instead_. . .

He rolled off of the futon, rubbing at one eye with the back of a hand. Then the other. Soon, his eyes were clear enough that he could open them, and then he could see. Even if he thought he could find his way towards the smells just by his nose.

Slowly, his eyes did open, and it was then that he blinked, doing a double take. It wasn't the Mouri place.

Another blink and everything started to come back. Yes, he was Conan again. But this time, it had been his own decision. No, he wasn't at the Mouri place he was at Koizumi-san's, and that was because it was here he'd gone to change back. With a look around, he realised that it had to be not even dawn, yet. If his ears weren't deceiving him, the sounds of raised voices and laughter could be heard from the kitchen, which he'd discovered sometime yesterday during the interminable wait for twilight.

A look down at himself found a pleasant but not entirely expected surprise – he was dressed in the clothes he'd taken to change back into once he'd done. Idly, he wondered who had dressed him. It wasn't like there was much to look at like this, but he sincerely hoped it hadn't been either Koizumi or Mina. In fact, he didn't know whether or not to be thankful or mortifyingly embarrassed. A look back at the futon proved ruffled dark coloured duvets, and a dark stain on the pillowcase.

Shocked, he touched his mouth, but found nothing there.

"Sorry," said a tired voice from not too far away. "I'm afraid that happened when we had to get the futon out. I wanted to help, but my bandages ended up slipping slightly. Koizumi-san wasn't much pleased, either."

Startled, he looked around, only to find one worn out Hakuba Saguru sitting curled up slightly in a plush armchair. His attention was drawn to the other boy's arm where, indeed, were some bandages wrapped there. There weren't any stains on the outer sides of them, however, so they must have been changed since the incident he'd been talking about.

"How. . ?"

"I'm told that it should heal rather rapidly, and that I shouldn't have to worry about infection."

Just that one sentence was enough to make his face red, flushing with shame and anger at himself. His fists clenched and he looked down at the black carpet.

"I bit you. Didn't I."

"Yes," came the unwanted word, but confusingly enough it didn't have any condemnation in it. He wondered why. He deserved it, certainly. Then there were movements as Hakuba got out of the armchair and moved closer. "You're not at fault, Kudo- Shinichi-kun." Contact that he flinched away from as Hakuba's hand gently eased his head up again, so that he would be able to look him in the eyes. "You aren't. I offered. To your credit, the bandages are for the mark that Kuroba-kun realised I needed before I would take anything."

"That doesn't change anything. I shouldn't have. . . I never wanted to. . ."

"I could tell that much," Hakuba bit back coldly. "I could tell that quite clearly. Next time, don't be so much of a martyr. Kuroba's enough of a suicidal idiot for the lot of us, understand?"

And just like that, Hakuba stood back up, stretching as he did so. He didn't follow suit. He thought that his limbs were still shaking from what his body had been through – and, apparently, what he didn't even remember.

"O- oi!" Kaito's shout had him distracted, but the magician didn't sound particularly angry or in danger. "Knock it off," he heard, a bit more faintly. "Yo – Hakuba, Tantei-chan! Breakfast's ready!"

With a confused and slightly guarded look at Hakuba, he rose, disentangling himself for good from the sheets.

"Kuroba-kun and Fritz-san took the privilege of preparing food when we realised that hardly any of us had managed to get any more than a few hours' sleep," the British detective said in a deadpan. So far as I know, it should be edible, but I'd watch for any unpleasant side effects. The last time I ate anything that Kuroba had prepared, my tongue turned yellow."

"Oh," said the younger detective as they made their way through to the dining area that they'd been shown the previous evening. "Not black or blue, then? Or purple?"

Hakuba gave him a strange look. "No. Definitely yellow."

"Hm. Interesting. Can't have been one of the shop-bought ones, then. . . then again, Kid uses pink smoke, so he's gotta be pretty good at home chemistry."

"I would suppose so," the blond said flatly as they walked through the door. "From what I've seen of both of them – both sides, I should say – that certainly seems the case."

He didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected from the diminutive detective, but a suddenly brash smirk hadn't been it at all.

"Personally, I'm not all that fond of yellow, but it wasn't a bad choice. It's a good trick – I used it on Occhan myself for a prank when I was just starting out experimenting in chemistry. Ran's mom had made some comment about the way his tongue'd go blue if he stared at other girls so much, so I decided to test it out on him next time I eat at their place – this wasn't all that long before they broke up, though. But we had a good laugh, and he stopped pulling that stupid face quite so much for a couple of days 'til the stuff wore off."

He stopped his story, realising that Hakuba had started to stare at him with what looked suspiciously like horror. The blond stopped abruptly however when confronted by Mina, who had started to go over to them.

"Please tell me that personality quirks are not transferable through blood. I don't honestly think that I could stand it."

Mina immediately started to giggle against her usual mysterious front that she put up, probably having overheard their conversation. It ended up being Fritz who answered the blond's question as he came in to put one of the bowls of food onto the centre of the table. Even now, it looked awfully strange seeing anyone treat something that should be hot enough to burn with such a careless attitude.

"Not so far as I know," he said with a light smile on his face. "Otherwise, we'd all be a more than a bit weird."

Mina's giggles evaporated.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing more than I said."

"You implied something. I sincerely hope that it wasn't anything too disparaging."

"Not entirely, no."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at Fritz's antics as she let them through into the dining area and to the table, which looked as though it had been carved from a black wood of sorts, with a white tablecloth on top that, it seemed, someone else must have donated or had been bought at short notice, since it was so out of context with the rest of Koizumi Akako's place.

He was irritated and startled, however, when Haibara, who had previously been in deep conversation with their host and was now seated at the table a couple of seats down from him, told him to be careful. He brushed her off. . . only to be cursing moments later when, upon trying to get up into the chair made for an adult, he had banged himself against some part of it. He was only glad that the chair itself wasn't entirely wooden as well as the table, and sent Haibara a glare, pre-emptive for the smug look he was sure she was wearing.

The smells of the home-cooked food were now tantalisingly mouth-watering, and it wasn't long before the last dish was brought in by Kaito, who presented it on the table with a performer's flourish before finding his own seat next to him.

"They smell good," he said as the lids were taken off. "I'm _starving_."

The two normal human males looked at him sidelong. Haibara smirked, and Mina attempted to hide a smile.

"Ah, the voracious appetite of a young boy. Much akin to a bottomless pit, I've found."

Fritz looked askance at her, helping himself to potatoes and noodles. Hakuba, he noticed, turned a strange shade of pale.

"At least we don't have to worry so much about your blood supplies," he said, throwing Mina a quick glare. "Body mass," he explained towards Shinichi's donors, and Shinichi himself. "Means you don't have to have as much to go around."

Kaito and Hakuba Saguru relaxed slightly, much to his and the other vampires' amusement, and the meal went on, conversation only happening rarely until almost everything had been eaten and people were starting to feel full.

"So," he said at last, "where is it that we go from here? I mean, as soon as I can, I'm going to think up some story and go back over to Ran's, but..."

"But you aren't doing that until I've run several tests on you, Kudo-kun. They shouldn't take too long, but they are necessary to figure out just how much you have been affected by this, and whether there will have to be any adjustments you will have to make, going back to this form in your current state."

He sighed the sigh of those who have long suffered scientists poking them with needles and making them jump when the scientist says jump for the sake of results.

"Fine. . ."

"And I will be expecting to see you in two or three days' time, to see how you're doing then. It would be no good if you came this far only to decline after only a short amount of time, now would it?"

"Of course not."

"And if you keep on like that, you're going to end up like Genta-kun."

At this, he snorted, spraying what he'd just put into his mouth back into his dish. He choked slightly, indignant.

"No I'm not! And you, I mean _both_ of you, stop laughing at me!"

Both Fritz and Kaito wilfully disobeyed. The others fell only a little short of the same kind of mutiny.

----

Pacing around her father's office, Ran considered the benefits and disadvantages of going straight over to Shinichi's. He hadn't answered either his home phone or his cell all day, and she was beyond worried; she had tried to contact Kuroba-kun, only to get his mother, saying that he'd also been out. She had tried some of the others, but while she had been able to contact Aoko-chan, the other girl had seemed to have exactly the same problems as she had been having. Not to mention that Hakuba-kun was also apparently missing. And Akako-chan.

So wherever they all were, it was most likely that they were together. Which eased her state of mind only slightly, since if they were all together then it was less likely something awful had happened to them, yet if something awful _had_ happened, then it must have been even worse than anything they'd ever known before to get past _all_ of them.

She paced about some more, thankful that her father was out and wouldn't be due back until at least an hour or more, so that at least he couldn't get angry at her for distracting him from his precious shows. This was more important.

The sky outside was only just starting to get dark, and she risked one last long look out of the office wall-come-window. With the coming night, it might be that Shinichi was going to come back to her, or at least call her. She knew well enough how, even though he _could_ go out in the daylight, it wasn't always easy and, in some cases, possible. So maybe he would come back to her now that it was going to be easier for him. She certainly hoped so.

Her eye was caught by three figures – two taller, one short, in fact child-sized she would say – walking down the street towards the detective agency from the direction of the bus stop that came from Ekoda way, which she had become familiar with ever since they had become such good friends with the others who lived over that way.

The first thing that struck her was that all three of them were well dressed, or rather, well covered up. There was hardly an inch of skin left bare, even though while it was the middle of October it wasn't as cold as the middle of winter tended to be. The second was that all three of them were carrying small bags, and the middle figure – hardly visible, surrounded by the other two as they were – was hunched up as he walked, unaided by the hand of either of the two taller people.

She hadn't realised that she had been clutching to the rim of her father's desk until she started to make herself try to breath normally again, sharp stabs of pain reminding her of such things.

She would call him again. She would stop being so paranoid and she would go and call him again, and then she would try Kuroba-kun, and if that didn't work then she would go over to his house, and then Agasa's, and then...

The doorbell buzzed. In her tensed up state, she jumped at the loud noise that had invaded the unusually silent office – the normality had come to be, for her, the sounds of her father cheering on the horses or Okino Yoko, with Conan-kun's acerbic remarks cutting in every so often, or the turning of pages or scratching of pen against paper. Even knowing that Conan had been Shinichi didn't stop her from remembering what she had become used to, as she rushed down, wondering who it was at the door, afraid that she was going to have to tell a potential client of her father's that he was out right now, when the man was out playing games with his friends.

The door opened only for her to see the very three figures that she had just been watching from the office; except that from this angle, the tallest was a woman, the next was a man and the last was a child. All three were wearing winter clothing, faces pale but not flushed with cold. She could see now, now that she had the light of the hallway backing her, that they weren't wearing black, as she had momentarily thought previously. It had only seemed so because of the lighting.

She did wonder, though, what they were here for. None of them had spoken yet, and the man – dressed actually, now that she looked at him closer, mostly in bike leathers and work-wear boots – elbowed the child lightly alongside the head, to which said child only sighed, without complaint.

He looked up at her, and she gasped, a hand going to her mouth in shock. It was Conan. Shinichi. Conan was back.

"H-hey, Ran-neechan. . ." he trailed off, sounding about as upset as he could, even though he looked like he was trying to pull off a cheerful countenance. It wasn't working, for either of them.

She was only just able to remind herself that they were standing in full view of the street, and that that was probably the very reason why Conan had addressed her so.

"But... but why are you back here? Like this? I – I thought you were-!" She broke off in a half sob – she didn't know what she had been about to say. When Shinichi had first returned, he had said in no uncertain terms that Conan was now dead, or as good as. ". . . in America," she finished lamely, falling back on the lie that he had told her, her father and the police.

He shrugged. It was pitiful, really – it really was. Now that she had had _her_ Shinichi back for so long, without lies, she could see easily the sheer force of his personality pervading each and every move he made. Or maybe that was because he wasn't hiding from her, even though he had used his Conan-name for her.

"I heard about all the trouble Shinichi-niisan was having, and I had to come back," said Conan. But it all sounded not more than a scripted line. Blue eyes looked at her, willing her to understand their hidden meaning. "But Ran-neechan? I don't think you've met my ji-san and my baa-san."

Startled and reminded of the other two, she looked back up at them. Suddenly met first a pair of twinkling light blue eyes, and then some of irritated hazel. The owner of the blue eyes looked American, a hand holding up sunglasses so that they could see each other properly, and a mouth that was grinning sarcastically, first at her and then with a flash at the taller hazel-eyed woman, who had disavowed glasses but instead of a baseball cap wore a wide-brimmed summer hat type of thing that looked quite out of place in autumn. It was strange – despite the fact that Shinichi had depicted her as such, and the fact that she was taller, the woman did not look that much older than her companion.

Remembering her manners, she stood aside so that everyone could come in. She shut the door and led the way up silently, and went to ready some tea while they changed into house slippers.

By the time she had returned, they had divested themselves of their outer coats, hats and gloves, and for a moment she stood in momentary shock at the sight of Conan in his blue jacket, jeans and red bow tie that she had thought had been consigned to memory only. The glasses were the only things missing, and those only because he had them in his hands, rubbing furiously at them with a handkerchief.

"Damn things," she could hear him muttering as she went over to the table and put the tray down. "Clear lenses, and it still feels like they're someone else's prescription..."

Ran frowned, glancing warily at the two who were just coming over to sit down, the American laughing over something while fiddling with the sunglasses he was still wearing.

Apparently, Conan found the glasses too much trouble for the moment, and stuck them in a jacket pocket and out of the way while he sat down opposite her. His bright blue eyes, no longer hidden by the lenses for the moment, seemed to seek out anything but her to look at. He was flanked moments later by the two who had come with him.

"I, uh, sorry about out there, Ran," he said in a low voice. It was profoundly different from any – almost any, she amended herself – time that she had heard him speak as Conan before. "But we were out on the street, and, uh. . . anyway. This is Fritz," he said in a matter of fact tone, "and this baa-san here's Mina."

She stared outright at his blatant lack of respect for either of the two of them. She had what felt like a hundred questions all lined up and ready to be asked, but in the end, what came out of her mouth was probably the most inane.

"Why is it you keep on calling her that? I mean, she's not that old, is she?"

The man – Fritz, Shinichi had said – snorted.

"She's older than she looks," is all that he said.

Shinichi, funnily enough, smirked slightly despite himself at the man's comment.

"Oh," she said. Not really understanding the joke, if it was one.

Shinichi. . . Conan, that is, sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

"Look, I'm sorry, Ran. I really am. I just. . . couldn't keep going like that. I said. And it came to me that no one really took note of me while I was like this, and. . . it's not forever. Just until the case is done with. You trust me, don't you?"

Shocked that he would even need to ask her such a thing, she nodded. But couldn't help but glance at the two who hadn't so much as blinked throughout the entire speech.

"Mina and Fritz have known about me for a while," he said, sounding dejected again. He hunched up slightly, as though trying to make himself smaller than he already was. "I... I don't know how long, exactly... but they've never given me away. And if anyone asks," he said, now so quietly that she could barely hear him, "they're the 'friends' who took me back to America after the Unobo case."

She couldn't help it – she gasped, sitting back into the sofa to put at least bit more space between herself and the two across from her – the two who were not smiling and joking now, who were deathly serious, but also quiet, and looking at her with a certain questioning quality in their eyes.

"So. . . so you're. . .?"

She knew that there were tremors in her voice, but she didn't really care at that moment. If what he had just told her was true. . !

The woman inclined her head. Ran closed her eyes and focused on breathing.

"We will be posing as Edogawa Conan's aunt and uncle," she said. "Kudo-kun, who has not completely left town but has gone to investigate the case from a different perspective, has allowed us the use of his house, for the time being. Once the case is solved and Kudo-kun can return, we shall see where to go from there."

Still concentrating to a certain extent on her breathing, she opened her eyes to look at Conan.

"And you're all right with this?"

He shrugged hopelessly.

"They're all right, I suppose... I guess I can say I trust them, yeah." He looked up at her, into her eyes. "Please, Ran. I need you for this. I can't make this work without you."

She straightened her back and made an effort to at least look more composed than she still felt. The other two might be like Shinichi was, able to tell people's feelings by smaller signs than normal people could see, but she was willing to make a show if nothing else.

"Of course I'll help you, Shinichi," she said. "You'd never need to ask for that." A thought occurred to her, and she checked the time. A surprising amount had passed since their arrival, but they still had a good amount left... "You're still going to have to break this to 'Tou-san, though," she reminded him, completely serious.

He groaned.

"Damn," he said. "I completely forgot."

------

AN: Longer than I'd expected, was originally going to have two other scenes as well as the ones written up. Those'll be coming up next chapter, though, so never fear.

I have to admit to having Fritz and Crowley from Good Omens merge at one point, when Ran first saw them. The opportunity for sunglasses-ness was too much to miss.

All right – anyone hate me/love me for this? I'm hoping that the chapter answered some questions. . . and others will be answered later on, too. Next chapter definitely will have the why of the return of Conan explained a bit more thoroughly.


	8. I Need Something

The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Seven – I Need Something

_I need something to believe in/ Cos I don't believe in myself/ I'm sick and tired of getting nowhere/ Guess it'll all work out_- Newton Faulkner

-----

Shinichi somehow managed to squirm his way through the time it took to tell Mina and Fritz for the last time what was and wasn't allowed while in his home, give them the spare keys and see them out the door, Ran watching all the while. Thankfully, a Fritz related incident had relieved her of at least some of her worries towards the pair, or the American at least. He could just imagine Hattori or Kuroba trying to prank his house, but it had been the other vampire who had suggested uncovering his stash of luminol and spraying it everywhere for a joke, only to be reamed out by the owner of said house coming up with a litany of 'No, you are _not_ to luminol my bathroom. Or my kitchen. You are banned from going anywhere _near_ my room! Neither of you are allowed to root around in my attic, and there is to be no redecorating of any sort while you're there. At all. I mean it!"

Ran had actually giggled, ruining his serious moment yet at the same time bringing a smile to his face. Her reaction to those two had been worrying him, and it was good to see and hear her laugh again.

He only hoped that the guy – or rather, Mina, since she seemed to be the only one able to control him – had been listening. Otherwise when he finally had cracked the case, he'd have a house that looked like the inside of the Twilight Mansion to go back to.

And of course there was his hope that somehow, he could get through all this without Ran getting too upset. . . and somehow staying alive after Mouri got home.

"Ne, Shinichi?"

He looked back around as the door closed in front of him, tensing slightly for what he knew was to come.

"Why. . . I know you said before, but I want to know, really know. . . why did you do this? Why did you risk yourself like that, just for a case? Why – _why_ didn't you tell me you were going to do this?!"

He leant his small body against the secure weight of the door for just a moment, tired from his ordeal yesterday all through and into today, even when he hadn't been awake and aware to know what was going on. Tired of all the secrets and lies. Tired of Ran having to pry answers out of him. Just bone-achingly tired.

Hoping that Mouri would get home so inebriated that he didn't notice the extra pair of small outdoor shoes or the fact that he was here at all, he took to the stairs slowly, making his way up to the office with its wall-long window and welcoming seats.

"I didn't want you to stop me," he said at long last once he was sat and with his head in his hands. "I knew that if I saw you and I told you my idea, then you'd hate it, and you wouldn't want me to even think about it. You'd say it was too dangerous."

"Well, it is!"

He laughed dryly.

"See? I said you'd say that... But I had to. Otherwise I would have always wondered – would the case have gone quicker, been solved at all, if I'd done this? If I didn't try, I wouldn't know. I knew that it was possible. I just ... didn't want to tell you."

"But why, Shinichi? I want to know why you kept something from me again."

He looked up to meet her eyes – she called his pretty, but hers were just beautiful – and smiled, sadly.

"Because I knew that if I'd told you, or Hattori about this, then somehow, one or both of you would be able to talk me out of it. You'd look at me like you're doing just now, and I wouldn't be able to resist, and Hattori'd shout at me and call me ten kinds of idiot, but I'd be able to tell no matter what he said that he'd be worried and upset that..."

"And you don't think he's not going to be worried and upset now?! Now, he's going to have to deal with the fact that you didn't tell him. It's like you didn't trust either of us!"

He shook his head, hair flying wild in his vehemence.

"No, no, no! I do trust you! I just wouldn't have been able to trust myself, that's what – I knew that this would work, but with you trying to make me not do it, I. . . I couldn't just keep sitting there idle, Ran!"

"So what do you think the rest of us feel like then, Shinichi? We're not all meitantei like you are, or even Hattori-kun and Hakuba-kun. And just because _you're_ the one we all look up to doesn't mean that you have to be the one to shoulder all of the problems that come our way."

Conan's – Shinichi's – eyes widened. He was. . . what? _I mean, sure, Hattori's never been as good a detective as me, so I've had to show him things a couple of times or so, and Hakuba's better at chasing thieves, namely Kuroba, but. . . she said all. 'We all'. I. . . don't know how I feel about that._

_How about like it's no news at all and yet at the same time, absolutely terrifying?_

He shivered. His idea of what she had just meant took up a great deal of his thinking space.

"We know that you're hitting yourself over the head all the time about having seen something you can't remember. But you've said it yourself, a number of times – a detective isn't god. Even Kuroba-kun said you can't control everything. And his speciality is chaos," she said, finishing with a tremulous smile on her face.

He smiled weakly back at her.

"But I'm here now," he said. "I can't change that. I wouldn't even if I wanted to – couldn't do that to..." he cut himself off, not wanting to explain the fact that it had required two feedings, one of which had been rather large, while the other had necessitated that Hakuba Saguru, through the detective's own volition, had become a part of Shinichi's extended family, or so that was what Fritz said it translated to.

Clan. Mina and Fritz. Him. First Kuroba, then Hakuba. A morbid part of him wondered who was going to be next.

First Kuroba and then Hakuba had tried to drill it into his head that this didn't bother them, not really, even though Shinichi could see that it did. Shinichi himself could see that it could be a good thing - Kuroba had, at some point not long after having explained some of what Fritz had told him that one night, explained exactly what had happened the day before Shinichi's Incident. Kaito had known that something bad was about to happen - just not what. And if what he'd been told was right and he'd get the same kind of danger sense when it came to them, then it was, perhaps, worth it.

Still. A high price to pay. Blood. Loyalty. Family. Duty. And for all he knew, they might not have reacted the same ways that they had if they hadn't been affected by that bond. Whether any of them wanted it or not.

A selfish part of him was only thankful that it had been them, and not Ran. That he hadn't been anywhere near Ran either time. Not just because of his own cowardice... though that did play a part of it - he didn't want to know whether she would be the same Ran he had always known after, or not. But also because if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that sharing blood - when not feeding that way he had that first time, that time he tried not to think about, when he'd almost lost control - was _personal_. Very. A connection ten times stronger than just normal friendship. And if that was what he felt when feeding from Kaito and Saguru, who _were_ just friends, his face usually turned an interesting shade of red whenever he contemplated what that kind of connection would do to what he and Ran had.

Not to mention that, no matter what she said, Ran was still at least slightly squeamish about such things.

And yet here he was, in her home again, in such close proximity that he could hear her heartbeat and practically feel her breath on his cheek even though she was too far away from him for that to be viable. Her every emotion was laid out before him in minute detail, if he wanted to examine them. Her scent - something that went to his head every time he was around her, and in here it was literally _everywhere_ he went - was so strong and at the same time so gentle, just like her. Smelled of cooking, of ink-and-paper, of light cotton and orchids . . . her distinct perfume. A dozen other things that were all just _her_.

His heart broke for a moment as he wished that it wasn't Conan there, tensing and squirming under her sad, disappointed, accepting gaze. But it was Conan. Conan was needed. Whether he wanted the know-it-all brat to be there where Kudo Shinichi wanted to be or not, he was there to stay, at least until the case was done.

He looked up at her, only to see her sigh, eyes closed. She looked like she was about to say something, and he tensed for what was undoubtedly going to be another verbal onslaught, even if she didn't even raise her voice, but then -

A slam resounded throughout the building, and he cursed fluently in Nakamori-ese. Mouri - Kogoro Mouri - was back. And by the sounds of things, not quite drunk enough, for once.

------

_Damn it_, thought Mouri Kogoro as he slammed the door shut. _Damn these cases, and damn that detective brat_.

He wasn't drunk enough. But then again, the case had caught him on the way home from a meeting with friends not far away, and had sobered him up like nobody's business. _Damn murders. Even with that brat gone, they still haven't stopped_.

He stopped thinking about that particular matter. He usually tried to find some way of avoiding the subject no matter what. Just because murders had often happened around Mouri Kogoro didn't mean that Mouri Kogoro liked them, or liked having to solve them. But whether he liked it or not wasn't the important bit – he was a detective, damn it, and he wasn't going to be shown up by some upstart brat with too many brains and too much money for his own good.

Even if that brat was good at what he did. Really good.

Good enough that, upon being told after that girl they'd been after had been rescued that he, Kogoro Mouri, had basically been used as a puppet for the past... however long... just because the brat'd got himself into a mess he hadn't been able to bluff his way out of, he'd started to actually try and work up to that legend the kid had made for him for the sake of his own pride if nothing else. Kami knew it probably wouldn't be long until Eri found out, was told, or quite simply figured things out on her own, and he didn't think he'd be able to live with himself after seeing that woman laughing at him for something like that.

So he'd worked. And damn but that brat made it look easy. It wasn't. It was hard. All those eyes watching you, a dead body in the room, and the knowledge that the killer was among those few people lined up in front of you. . . and that this time, there _was_ no miracle waiting in the wings. No 'Sleeping Kogoro' unless he chose to put on the act. And the killer would walk away just like that unless he got everything right. And that woman would look at him in that way of hers if he didn't. And tonight, he hadn't been drunk enough.

Just in front of his own door at the top of the stairs, getting out the key, turning it in the lock and opening the damn thing. The little things. The house scuffs, still lined up and waiting for him to kick his own shoes off and out of the way, Ran's probably on her feet and - he blinked. The brat's were missing. They'd gotten a smaller pair for the kid not long after they'd practically adopted him into their home, and even after he'd gone off again, Ran hadn't wanted to part with the things. Huh. Maybe with all that was going on now, she'd finally got rid of them. He slid his own feet into his own and slouched further into the room.

The TV was off. He blinked, and reminded himself that Ran usually left it off when he was gone and she was home, and that usually meant that the radio'd been turned off as well. He'd have to check to make sure it wasn't unplugged or anything, though - there'd been a Yoko special that he'd set a timer to record that would really help him feel better...

He went to sit down on his couch - he wanted something a bit more comfortable than his desk chair for once. It was his home after all. And after office hours. And it wasn't as if he was going to do anything else tonight other than what he wanted even if there were police sirens right outside his front door. Which there weren't. So. . . So. . .

So why did there seem to be a pint sized brat - of the disturbingly, horrifyingly familiar kind - sitting right in the seat where he wanted to be? It had to be a joke. The world hated him, he was going to turn into some sort of crime magnet of the worst kind just like that Kudo kid, and he still hadn't even been able to reach the fridge for that beer he desperately needed, let alone just a single cigarette. At least he could tell that the show had been recorded - there was that flashing little red light on the machine under the TV, the one that gave him headaches every time he woke up in his office with a hangover.

He swore. The brat flinched. Which was wrong - the brat never flinched.

"How in the name of... What the hell d'you think you're doing back here like that, you- !?"

----

Edogawa Conan flinched again, but this time it was purely on the inside, memories of what Ran had told him only minutes before and the implications of such a thing still making themselves known in the worst ways possible. And it was Conan, now. The glasses were back on. As were the suspenders. And the belt. And the watch. The only thing missing from the ensemble was, in fact, the voice-changer bowtie, since he had decided that he didn't want to have to explain how the bruises he was sure he'd get if he was wearing the thing went down so very quickly - the old man knew about the so-called 'Sleeping Kogoro' part at least, ever since the day after Shinichi had returned from helping Kuroba rescue the younger Nakamori, having not much cared about the physical consequences at the time.

He dared to look up, though didn't quite get the strength of will up to look the man in the eye. What he saw wasn't entirely unexpected, but for some reason some part of his mind hadn't thought to take the incoming information seriously up until that point. The man looked different. Not too different, though - he still acted like a slob and smelled of cheap alcohol, cigarettes and badly chosen aftershave. The Mouri place didn't look all that different either; but therein lay one of the changes. Sure, Ran had been there practically all day while her father hadn't, but Shinichi's nose couldn't still smell the wifty aroma of afterstench of beer cans and instant meals that had been left lying around for hours or even days on end. Not to mention the tell-tale smell of crime scene that stuck to the man's clothes even now. As one who was quite intimately acquainted with blood from both a forensic and a vampiric perspective, it was obvious where he'd just been. And he'd been there for a while.

Hidden inside of himself, there were feelings of pride and relief. That the man had finally gotten his act together, or at least started to. Yet all he could do was hang his head, light reflecting off of his glasses. Glasses which he'd last worn what seemed like a lifetime ago, now.

"Well? I'm waiting for an answer, brat."

With a snort and a loud grumble, the man crossed his arms, looking slightly more sober than before.

He let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, knowing that while Ran might still be in the kitchen making drinks (or at least pretending to; he hadn't heard the kettle boil or smelled anything brewing) she would definitely be listening in on the conversation.

"I..." he fought not to look nervous, well aware that his palms were sweating, "I had to. No, I _needed_ to. Otherwise, the case-"

The sudden scowl on the man's face did _not_ bode well for him.

"Damn it, brat! Sometimes even a detective has to give up on a case if _that's_ what it takes!"

"I can't!" He shot back, nerves disappearing suddenly with newfound anger. "I couldn't just give up on a case, no matter what! That person's still out there, somewhere. And wherever they are, I've _got to find them_."

Kogoro snorted again, but this time in derision.

"Sheesh, you really think the world revolves around you, don't you? That thing you saw was just some normal murder. I'm not saying it's not as important to find who did it, but it wasn't _those_ guys. And even if it was, you're forgetting one big thing."

"What might that be, then?"

"They know about you. You told me yourself how there's a chance they'd recognise you even like that. You took a stupid risk for absolutely nothing except your own pride, brat. You're forgetting that you're still just a kid - and you've made yourself even more of one now."

"I had to," Conan gritted out, fists clenching tightly. "The risk _was_ worth it. I can't even remember anything about that person! For all I know, they could have been one of _them_ - and if they had been, then it wouldn't have just been Kudo Shinichi's life that was forfeit. It would've been you and everyone else! _That's_ the reason. If Kudo Shinichi suddenly disappeared, without anyone knowing why, then he could be anywhere. They'd have to spread themselves thin to find him. Conan returning wouldn't be that big of a deal; people are already familiar with him. He's known to be a big supporter of his 'Shinichi-niisan'. There's no way the kid would just watch on while his role model was-" he cut himself off from saying anything potentially hazardous. "Indisposed and away."

He met the older man's eyes, daring him to say anything to that. He hadn't said everything earlier because he'd hoped that he wouldn't have to have Ran hear, but while her father might be a bit slow at times, that was really only because he was lazy, and Shinichi knew that once he actually picked himself up and got moving, he wouldn't stop.

"Feh," the man said, finally. "All that on a mere possibility?"

_Not entirely just a mere possibility_, he thought, remembering. That witch Koizumi had helped. Meaning that either she thought that the likelihood that all he'd thought up was true was worth considering, or she'd seen something. None of the prospects were good. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"You're forgetting something, too. Ignoring the idea of _them_, there's the person I saw. Even without a stupidly big Organisation behind them, one person that _I can't remember_ would probably try to remove their potential evidence. If I was them and in their shoes, that's what I'd be doing. Trying to figure out who saw me, and how I can make sure they _never_ remember." At long last, he allowed himself a shaky breath. "I figured that without even being able to tell who it is even if I saw them face to face right before they got me, being Conan would be safer." He laughed bitterly at that.

In the kitchen, a spoon clattered to the floor. He turned in the direction that the sound had come from, not worried, but sad. She'd heard.

"Ran..."

"It's all right," she called out, as though able to hear his too-quiet use of her name. It was obvious she was faking the cheerfulness, though. He could hear it.

A moment later, the kettle started to boil. Five minutes after that, she came back into the room, carrying the tray with the tea things on it for the second time since he'd come in that evening, but with three cups instead of four, this time. The old man whined about wanting beer, the Conan situation temporarily forgotten, but was stopped short when she glared at him with that sweet smile on her face - an expression that usually occured just before something got smashed to pieces. No more complaints. None of them touched the cups, though. All of their minds were on other things.

The clock ticked on. One by one, the stars revealed themselves from their hiding places in the sky, and slowly but surely the moon made her way to her throne in the heavens. Finally, the weight of the oppressive silence grew too much and he stood up, drained his cold drink, and carried it over to the kitchen, putting it into the sink with a bit of a stretch which he might once have groused about. Now, he was simply too accustomed to having to make do with this height, and aside from that... he had chosen it, this time. He didn't deserve to complain about something he'd chosen.

Once he'd done that, however, he turned to go out into the hall, but once he got there, he stopped. Not moving any further, he found that he couldn't say anything, his eyes widening as he realised that there was at least one thing that he hadn't considered in the whole equation.

"Oi, brat. What is it now?"

"I..." he tried to start explaining, but all it did was make his headache worse. How was he going to explain this? He hadn't even thought about it before. He supposed, he thought as his mouth opened and closed again without saying a word, that he'd been a bit of an idiot in that respect. Everything else had been thought out to the letter and step. This - he'd just assumed. He should _know _by now not to assume. He was simply too used to how things had been before to remember and actually realise that things were different now. He sighed, dropping his head with it in a worn-out gesture before bringing it up again as he turned back to the others. "...Um. Where do I go?"

Mouri's still full drink hit the table with a clank and a splash, cold liquid spilling out as he stood.

"Listen, Kudo. There are a few things we need to sort out. Right now."

Shinichi met the older man's glare, heart beating faster for some unknown reason but not about to back down just because of that. "Understood. Like what?"

"First things first - I know who you are now, so there are some things I'm not going to let lie any more. Like letting you freeload in my house like you did the last time. You can stay with someone else."

Shinichi's eyes widened of their own accord, mouth gaping open in sheer disbelief. Butterflies started to fly about in his stomach, causing a nausea-like sensation he'd had only a blessed few times before - but that had all been in his older body, not the younger, weaker body of Conan. _This can't be happening. I knew he wasn't going to like it, sure... but not like this! I can't - not after all those times. Can't let them._

"Tou-san-!"

"Occhan, you - you don't understand! I-"

"I mean it. I'm not having that brat sleeping in the same room as me even one more night - and it's over my dead body he's going to stay with you, Ran."

"Oi, oi! It's not as if I ever wanted to share your room, old man, and stop insinuating that I'd ever do anything, anything, _inappropriate_, even if I did stay with Ran! Which I wasn't even thinking of, at all!"

For one thing, the old man's snoring had kept him up any number of nights - among other things which had often hindered his much needed sleep - while he'd been Conan the first time, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to any kind of repeat. And as for Ran. . . the only time he'd been forced to sleep so close to her, he hadn't been ableo to due to that very reason. And he'd been _human _at the time.

"Tou-san, stop being so rude to Shinichi! He wouldn't do anything of the sort, I know him, and besides, there's a good reason why he can't go elsewhere. . . isn't there, Shinichi."

He didn't know whether she was sticking up for him because of the fact that it was him, because she knew that if occhan actually did kick him out then he'd be forced not to be able to go back in (at least, very easily) or because she wanted him nearby for her to still be angry at. He didn't really know. Whatever her reason was, he was grateful.

"Yeah," he answered. "And this time, it _is _about _them_." Both of them tensed, startled, as though neither of them had quite expected _that _kind of answer. Well, they should have. "With a small number of inconsistancies, Edogawa Conan has always been around whenever Kudo Shinichi wasn't. Times when the two were together over the past year have been rare, for obvious reasons, and I have a plan to make the duration of this case a lot harder for anyone who wants to exploit that. But until now, you two have both looked after Edogawa, and because of how he calls Ran 'neechan' among other things, he's often been mistaken for another member of the family. Now, imagine the surprise a curious outsider would feel if the nosey glasses kid didn't go straight back to the Mouris' after getting back from America, missing all his friends? People may well even have seen or noticed me today - I couldn't just stay cooped up inside right until after dark, you know. If that happened, then there'd be questions. Too many people suspect already, barring anyone I've already told or who found out by themselves in the past couple of months or so. Adding yet more evidence," he said around the nausea that was still there, "would be a stupid thing to do."

Ran looked horrified at the very idea; her father, however, looked like he'd just bitten into a lemon.

"Fine, fine! Do whatever you like. I suppose I'll have to get that old futon back out again. . ." Came the frustrated and annoyed mutter as the man sulked off.

"Yeah. . . I, uh. Thanks."

The man grunted. "Don't thank me. I just don't want everyone getting killed because of you, brat."

Shinichi could tell that Ran was getting riled up again in his defence, but he was more preoccupied with getting his heart to start pounding properly again, his breathing to start acting like it was doing the job right. The old man's words had struck a dissonant chord with him, and made him realise something that he should have taken in from the moment he'd realised that he was going to be sleeping somewhere other than his own home.

The nightmares. Oh kami, the nightmares. His eyes widened, and Ran seemed to understand that something was wrong, if not what it was. He'd never told her, and now if things went he was going to be waking up her father with his night terrors. And if he somehow went back to sleep straight after for whatever reason. . . he knew what he looked like when asleep. It wouldn't be good. But worse would be the fact that he would look weak in front of that person, and weak . . . in front of Ran. Which he hated.

"Ne, Shinichi...? Are you, um, all right?"

He swallowed hard, and nodded mutely. Then -

"O-oi, there weren't any other places I could crash, were there? I mean, anywhere other than occhan's. No disrespect or anything, but- I just remembered something. Uh, really important."

"Um, no, not really. I mean, there was an old cupboard room we were thinking of using for that before, but when you came back to normal, I mean, back to Shinichi again, we figured Conan-kun wouldn't need it any more. I guess we could clear it out at some point, but that's too long a job for tonight, though. . ."

"Oh."

Ran's father came back in with the old, familiar futon under one arm, and scowled at seeing them so close together - Ran had gone to him and knelt down to be at his level to speak to him.

"Oi, what're you complaining about now, huh?"

"Ah - Tou-san, I was just telling Shinichi about that space we were going to clear up for him before. You remember that, right?"

Kogoro grunted, and set down the futon, propping it up sideways against the wall.

"Hmph. If the brat wants to stay elsewhere, he's welcome, so long as he doesn't get in my way. The couch is fine."

Ran covered her mouth, eyes wide with what was likely the image that had assailed him and made him wince at the idea; he didn't particuarly like the thought of being burnt alive while still asleep and almost literally dead to the world.

"Wouldn't work," he said flatly, through the lingering sick feeling that had developed from the thought. "Anyone'd be able to see me from the window, and I really don't think that I'd like the idea of waking up to _that_."

Not least that the idea of waking up to bullet wounds hadn't sounded the most fun when Fritz had described it. Other than wondering what exactly the older vampire had done to solicit bullets being thrown his way, he thought that Haibara for one would kill him for being so careless as to open himself up to being such an easy target if he was found out when he was still in such a weak position. Not that he was going to say any of that in front of those two, though - especially not Ran. She didn't need to know that sort of thing.

"Well tough, then. That place is stuffed with junk still - there's no way you're getting it now. And besides, you're only going to be like that for the case, right?" The last was said with a sharp glance in 'Conan's' direction as he went back to find the rest of the bedding.

"Y-yeah," he said, feeling suddenly put on the spot again by not just occhan but also Ran.

"Huh. That scientist friend of yours found an actual cure, then?"

"I-uh, yeah. Sort of. . ." He trailed off with a nervous laugh. _Eh. Not like I'm going to say _what_ that 'cure' is. And its hardly likely that Haibara'd ever take _this _one_. . . Not that he'd actually involved the chemist in his explanation to the old man all that time ago. Only a vague allusion to someone he knew who was working on it, and could be trusted. Haibara hadn't wanted to have herself given away by accident, and thought it bad enough that so many knew about her as it was.

"Huh."

Luckily, the 'great detective' hadn't felt the need to poke his nose into the chemist's business, however.

Shinichi turned back to look at Ran, only to find her expression troubled. Not actually upset, but she had a slight frown, and she was biting her lip just so, a certain look in her eyes that he had grown far too familiar with over the past year, although it wasn't anywhere near as bad as he had become used to. He opened his mouth, wanted to say something - she was probably angry at him still, but he knew she was worried, too, and if he could say or do anything to help, he would. He was about to say _something_, when her expression changed without warning. From troubled to a sort of steely determination. She took a deep breath, stood, and looked in the direction of her father, who was just coming back again.

"Tou-san, he can stay with me."

Kogoro instantly dropped what he'd been carrying, a horrified look on his face just as an equally strong one of panicked disbelief made itself known on Shinichi's.

"No, Ran. Absolutely _not_!"

"Ran, ah, no - you don't have to do that!"

"Actually, Shinichi," she said, turning her icy glare on him, "I think that it's _my _choice. Tou-san, hand me the futon - I'll put it down somewhere in my room."

"_Ran_."

"And don't you - either of you - start saying anything about anyone doing anything innapropriate. If 'anyone' does, then they'll wake up very, very sore." She picked up the futon, one of her hands clenching into a ready fist right before she did so, and Shinichi stepped back slightly, putting his hands up above his head in what he hoped was the universal way of saying that he wasn't going to be doing _anything_.

This didn't reassure her father, though. But there wasn't anything either of them could do about it, and half an hour later both he and Ran were in the same room, and for the second time, he couldn't think straight. It wasn't as though they were sleeping in the same bed this time, or even that close together - his futon and bedding had been put at the opposite end of the room to her bed, so there was hardly any chance of that sort of embarrassment happening - but his senses were still going haywire from the change. They weren't as strong as they had been, and that took some getting used to, but kami, were they _sensitive _to what they did pick up. His face flushed sporadically as her breathing seemed sometimes so loud that it was right in his ear, and her smell surrounded him, making things worse in far too many ways, but at the same time it comforted. There was something about it that felt. . . safe.

"Ran. . ."

He heard a soft exhalation of breath from the other side of the room.

"Good night, Shinichi."

Without his say so, a smile crept up on his face as he let himself drift off.

"G'night, Ran. And. . . thanks."

-------

Ran knew for a fact that she was not a light sleeper, and that it did in fact take quite a lot to wake her up even in a dire predicament. Shinichi had taken every opportunity available to tease her about this fact. So she knew that, when she was being steadily woken up by strange sounds in the night, in any normal situation, such things shouldn't have disturbed her sleep at all. She wondered what it could be - burglars, maybe? They might have made a loud sound that could have woken her up a short time ago, and that would explain why she was awake now. . . and burglars, she could handle. She could. It was only ghosts and bakemono that she couldn't handle. Carefully, just in case they could hear her, she started to sit up.

Only to find that when they started up once more, they didn't sound like the sort of noises an intruder might make, and they weren't even that far away. They hadn't moved, they hadn't gotten any louder or closer, either, and Shinichi hadn't. . .

"Shinichi?"

No response.

Concerned, she got out of bed, walked barefoot over to where she'd put down his futon that evening. Kept her ears out for anything else out of the ordinary, an eye out for anything such as shadows within shadows. And something _was _moving, a small something not big enough to be a robber - unless they were. . . a child. . .

"_Shinichi_!"

Still no response, and Ran started to worry. As her eyes became more used to the dim light, she started to realise how late it had to be - her dad wasn't up still, as there was no light pooling around the bottom of her door. In any other instance she might have suspected a ghost, or something like that, but the only other person in the room was Shinichi, and Shinichi was enough to scare anything else away, anything other than Ran, that is. She hoped. But when she came closer, it turned out that the small form that had been moving . . . had been none other than Shinichi himself. Breathing hard in his sleep and looking far more vulnerable than he ever should, all she could see of him was what his coccooned form, hidden by the covers he'd hidden himself in, let her see. Faced away from her, she couldn't see what his face was like, but from what she could hear, it wasn't good. Shinichi had _told _her that vampires looked like they were dead when they were asleep. Almost really, truly dead, and so much so that he'd said once, very grouchily, that the first night he'd spent in the same room as Kuroba-kun, he had kept being woken up by a very worried thief, and glared at him the entirety of the next morning and more. But then, why - and how - was he acting this way now?

Ran didn't know. She didn't know what to do. He sounded scared, but he'd never had nightmares, she knew that. . . didn't she? She could account for any number of times when they'd had sleepovers when they were little, when they were young enough not to care about sleeping in the same room as one another, but for any later than that? Could she even account for any of the time he'd spent since becoming Conan? That, after all, while spent in her own home had been somewhere else in the house, and her father slept deeper than she did. And what of ever since he'd gone back to being Shinichi? That, she knew nothing of, except that no one had ever told her of anything unusual. But then, why worry her?

Except, now that this was happening anyway, Ran didn't know what to do. She knew Shinichi would never hurt her. But what if he was so far gone in his dream that he didn't know what he was doing, or where he was - such things had happened, she'd heard about them, and what with Shinichi being as strong as he was, and looking so scared. . . and she didn't know how to deal with a scared Shinichi, either.

Tears pricked at her eyes at her own weakness and at not being able to do anything for him, but were cut short at a loud noise from outside her room - something real this time, definitely not imagined, unless imagined things often took the form of sounding like someone had just tripped over one of her dad's empty beer cans that she must have looked over and forgotten to throw away in the madness that had been that evening. Not wanting to leave Shinichi's side, she turned to face her doorway and leaned over to look out from where she was sat kneeling, as she had been ever since she'd found him like this.

"Hello? Dad, is that you?"

There was no answer, but if she listened carefully she could hear someone speaking. It sounded more like curses, actually, muffled by walls and a soft voice that sounded oddly and jarringly familiar. But at the moment her mind was on other things, and she couldn't place it, so she wasn't going to assume.

"If - if you're a thief, or something, then-"

A darker patch of shadow came into her doorway, the door itself opened to reveal a still shadowed figure leaning on the frame.

"Well, I could be if you wanted me to, ojou-san."

"E-eh! Ka_- _Kaitou. . . _Kuroba_-_kun_?!"

The voice. . . of course she'd recognised the voice. It was almost the same as Shinichi's. And maybe she should be more worried that someone had broken into her home, but at the moment she was more concerned about Shinichi, and relieved that someone else who knew and was trusted was _there_.

"Th- thank goodness! It's - Shinichi. I... don't know how to... help?"

For a moment Kuroba-kun just stared at her, eyes widening in that same way that Shinichi's did, cute and innocent and kind of boggled and unsure of how to deal with the situation. Then he was walking in purposefully with a frown on his face that was barely visible in the darkness of the hours so late they were early. Knelt next to her, attention all on Shinichi but with only one knee to the floor, as if ready to run at any moment. He probably was, knowing his night job. Shinichi's twin put out a steady hand and touched the shoulder that could be seen underneath the covers, and Shinichi's breathing hitched, rising into a new level of panic. Ran looked at Kuroba-kun in concern.

"Oi, oi, Kudo. Calm down, will you? That's not healthy..."

This didn't help, and Shinichi didn't calm down. Instead, her friend, the one she liked most, keened softly, tensing. Kuroba-kun turned to her, a serious expression on his face.

"Oi, how long has he been like this?"

"I, I don't know. I only just woke up a short time ago. He was already like it. I don't understand," she said, turning back to Shinichi, who now looked even more like the child his body made him out to be, reminding her of that time not so long ago when that boy had impersonated him, only to cry just like that when he found out what had actually happened. "He's never had nightmares before, at the very least none like this. If he had, we'd have known! Conan-kun slept in the same room as 'Tou-san, and he would've woken up if something like this had happened, I'm sure! He's never been like this before. Ever. I don't think so."

Kuroba-kun took this in with a look on his face that only looked more worried as she went on, making her wonder whether there was something that he knew and she didn't. Another secret that Shinichi had kept from her, maybe? But she and Shinichi had agreed not to have any more secrets, right? And for the most part, that had held true. Except for the fact that he had planned to turn back into Conan-kun without telling her at all, that is. And. . . whatever it was that had happened on those nights, last month. She never had gotten the whole truth on either event.

She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly in an attempt to stop the tears from coming any further. They wouldn't help her, and they wouldn't help Shinichi, and they wouldn't help Kuroba-kun. Who was. . . taking a deep breath himself, as though steeling himself for something.

"Come now, Tantei-kun - enough of that. Ran-san's waiting for you back here. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting for you, now would you? Maa, maa. Are you just going to let this idiot thief get away again? That's not like you, Shinichi-kun. Not like you at all. Ah-ah, despite appearances, you're grown, aren't you? Shouldn't you know that even phantom thieves aren't actually ghosts?"

Ran watched, fascinated, as Kuroba Kaito performed a Kaitou Kid act for exactly two people, and one of the members of the audience wasn't even paying full attention. At least, not at first. Slowly but surely, though, Shinichi's breathing started to even out, the tension in his entire body eased up. Not entirely relaxed still, but better, more of an approximation of normal human sleeping patterns. Which, even though they still weren't the norm for a vampire, were still a lot better than they had been. Kuroba-kun continued to perform for a while, though, until at one point, without warning, Shinichi took a hold of the other boy's arm, and promptly fell back into a proper sleep like that, startling Kuroba-kun to no end.

"I think I've just had my arm stolen," the thief deadpanned.

Ran giggled behind her hand, so relieved that _something _had been done to calm Shinichi down that her laughter almost turned into hiccups.

"Wh- what just happened then?" she finally asked, once she had calmed down somewhat. "Why. . . why did he react like that? And those things you were saying. . . why?"

Kuroba-kun somehow found a way to lean up against her wall while not seeming able to detach Shinichi from his arm. With a head movement that Ran recognised from Shinichi as being one that went with an eye roll, the magician gathered up the bedding so that there now seemed to be a nest of mini-Shinichi all centered around Kuroba's left arm, which was hanging by his side as the right did all the work.

"There now. Should stay asleep like that, don't you think, Ran-san?" Ran nodded, hiding a smile in the darkness, but her eyes kept her questions. Kuroba-kun sighed, with a glance at the small form domineering his left arm.

"I'm an idiot," he said. Softly, calmly, reminding her of Shinichi calling himself "_Stupid high school detective_". But instead of looking as though he had just won, Kuroba-kun looked about ready to hit himself over the head. "Aoko's right. I'm a stupid, stupid idiot."

"Kuroba-kun...?"

"I'm sorry, Ran-san. But - more than anyone else, I should've known this kind of thing was going to happen sooner or later. Guess I was taken in just like the rest of us, huh?"

"I. . . I don't understand. How could you know?" She shook her head and shuffled over so that she was sitting opposite him. "And why are you here, anyway? I - I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound rude, but. . ."

"Pft, I understand," he said, waving his free hand in the air. "Winged by thinking of the brat here - you know, he only did the switch yesterday evening, right?" Ran nodded, even though Shinichi himself had said nothing of the sort. She'd had to figure it out for herself from what fitted. Kuroba-kun raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else on the matter. "I know. . . because I was there."

Ran didn't say anything.

"He still hasn't told you, has he? Nothing more than 'Just kind of lost control a bit' or something? Though I guess I'm not one to speak about that - I bet I wouldn't have told Aoko, if I was in his place. Thank the kami I'm not, though - that'd get sticky real fast."

"...No. He hasn't told me anything. But it's his thing to tell, isn't it? Why are you telling me any of this?"

-------

Kaito turned to her, looking the girl who looked so much like Aoko in the eye with his head tilted slightly to the side where he had one chibi tantei-kun sleeping away, curled up against him.

"How about because if I don't, then he'd probably never get up the guts to? He's been having nightmares about what happened, damn it! I didn't even think it through until a couple of days ago, and by then everything was happening too fast to be able to do anything at all. I should have. I was _there_." He paused, to calm himself down. Wouldn't do to lose his own grip on the situation, after all. "I'm telling you because what I'm saying is mine to tell, and because so far as I can see, you've got the right to know. Since he's gonna be rooming at yours, that is."

"Yours. . . to tell?"

"Yeah." He shifted - or tried to - to make himself a little more comfortable. It didn't work. There were still tricks poking into him everywhere they weren't wanted. "And aside from that, I think Hattori already figured it all out from what he noticed before and after. Though that's not saying much; that guy was almost on a level with Kudo here before he turned. Though," he said, grinning at her, "From what Kudo's told me, you're not too bad either, when you set your mind to it."

He had the pleasure of seeing her blush at the compliment, if that hand to the face meant anything at all.

"But - point is, Kudo. . . really did kind of lose it, that night. Ah, nothing you need to worry over _now _- other than the many ways he's been affected by it, of course. Or his pride. I mean, he is _not _going to be happy with me when he realises I've told you _any _of this, you know." He sighed. "Right then, how about we start with this. You might even know better than I do on this one, but I think that he's usually best off when he's, ah, taken the necessary at least once a day, maybe more, right? I thought so. From what I've gathered, his upper limit to that is about two to three days and he gets cranky. More, and his temper is prone to sudden flares, and he has difficulties controlling some of his instincts. Nothing too bad, not as bad that he can't keep on top of everything. Any further than that, and . . . he can't. He might not even notice it - especially if there's adrenaline involved. That neat trick of his, that one where he heals himself of just about anything that's not wood-inflicted? Pretty much gone bye-bye. I'd say the power gets rerouted to his senses, which basically go into overdrive. Can I just say now, not pretty? Well, if you're just looking, and you've got absolutely no common sense, then _sure_, but otherwise? Not pretty."

He shivered at the memory, under a carefully disguised Poker Face. He still remembered the way the guy had looked, as though he were inhuman... _addicted_, even. And when Kaito had stretched out his arm to shake him out of his trance-like state before he did something they were both going to regret, Kudo had simply lunged; it had been purely thanks to his own special brand of luck that fangs hadn't been able to penetrate any further through the white silk and cotton, that he'd stopped when he had.

What had been almost as unsettling had been the way Kudo Shinichi had broken down moments later, knees up and back against the wall, facing away from Kaito. _Crying_. The Detective of the East never cried. . . or so he had thought, back then. He knew better, now.

"Things got - pretty dire," he continued, noticing Ran watching him with a worried expression. His free hand found itself trawling its way through his hair, making it even messier. "I'd bet something pretty big that nightmare just now was his subconscious showing him what might've happened if someone'd got hurt. Bad."

"But," Ran said, interrupting him quietly, "No one did, did they? You just said so."

He shook his head. "No. That's why they're called nightmares, Ran-san. They show you the absolute worst possibility that could eveer have happened. Doesn't matter how it did happen, or how close... no, I don't know exactly what his are about, but I do know that much."

"Oh... then, why was it that, I mean, at that time..."

"Why'd I use Kid's voice, you mean?" Ran nodded. "'Cause I'd already tried calming him down using my own, and that didn't work. I figured his most traumatic experience that'd make him react like that'd have to be the one I just told you about, and at that time I was Kid, so... like that. It's a thing. When Kid's nearby, no one gets hurt. To the best of Kid's ability."

"Oh," she said again. "I think I see. That's part of how you're such good friends, isn't it?"

"Kind of, but I hope that's not all there is to it," he said, shifting slightly and moving his arm so as to help the blood flow a bit better. Which ended up with Kudo's head half resting on his leg. The girl across from him started to giggle.

"Eh? What is it now?"

"Ah - nothing. I just, well. It's a shame I couldn't take a picture. The two of you like that have to be one of _the _cutest things! You'd never guess he'd been like... well, like he had been, the way he's sleeping right now. Just like a real seven year old."

"Yeah," Kaito deadpanned. "A seven year old that won't let go of my arm and has a grip as strong as rigor mortis, maybe."

More giggles. What _was _it with girls and giggles?

"Oh, come on. You've got to admit - like that, you look even more like brothers or something!"

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone says the same thing. Seriously. D'you know, part of this guy's brilliant plan is to say that Kudo Shinichi's not _really _gone, just going at the case from a different angle? Oh, he told you? Well, apparently, he's somehow talked me into being his body double for the duration of the case."

"Oh really? And how was he going to make that work?"

"Well, he hardly ever appeared on his last 'big case', as he called it, and he's not half as much the media hog as he used to be for obvious reasons, so infrequent comings and goings wouldn't be that big of a deal. As for anything more specific. . . I usually go with the idea that you let the audience see what they want to see. It generally works, too."

"Hmm..."

She still looked unconvinced. Kaito didn't blame her.

"Well," she said, looking away slightly as she did so. "You've got school tomorrow, haven't you? No, I know you do. And _you _might have some kind of idea how to get Shinichi off of you, but _I _don't. And if you _did_. . ." Kaito swallowed hard, remembering easily how the girl across from him knew karate. Blackbelt karate. "Maybe you'd better stay here for the night."

He opened his mouth in protest, but she cut him off with a look that pierced easily throught he darkness.

"Right now, Shinichi is calm, and Shinichi is asleep. At the moment, for whatever reason, he's not having those nightmares. _I'd like to keep it that way_. I might not like having two boys in my room, but for tonight I'm sure I can bear it. Now - I'm going back to bed. You - you can use Conan... I mean Shinichi's futon. I sincerely hope that I'm not woken up again, understand?"

Kaito nodded, reminded strongly of Aoko. Except he and Aoko had never been in this kind of situation before, thank goodness. Not at all. Never had to. He'd have been mopped to death and back if he'd suggested it, too. In fact, he was very _glad _that it wasn't Aoko over there. Kudo's Ran-san? He could deal with. Aoko. . . would be _embarrassing_. He probably wouldn't have been able to sleep.

-------

AN: O_O Well, that was a long one.

On a more serious note, apologies for lateness. Had some bits of writer's block/was questioning a very important plot point. Never expected the chapter to end up being this long, but there were things that had to happen and I wasn't going to cut it short at all, as it wouldn't have been the same or worked at all if I'd done that.

A lot of plot points touched upon here, and readers may recognise that the events that happened in between the end of chapter 13 and the Epilogue of TVD1 are still not only having a knock-on effect to just about everything else, but are being retold and retold, and still aren't completely spun out...

I don't know about anyone else, but that image of Kaito and Conan like that? Ran's reaction was mine.


End file.
